That was the biggest problem with getting used to someone, she thought. You were lonely when they weren't there.

Don't you want me to kiss you goodbye, sweetie?" "Kiss a cow farm boy

Eve: Anyway, thanks for riding to the rescue. You need a white hat. Good guys wear white, right? Roarke: I look better in black.

I want you to take note, Commander, that turning in my badge would be like cutting off my arm. But if it comes down to a choice between the job and my marriage, then I lose the arm.

“I'm not going anywhere.” Gently, he stroked her back, cradled her head. Was there anything more astounding or more frightening to a man, he wondered, than a strong woman in tears? “I've been right here all along. I love you, Eve, almost more than I can stand.” “I need you. I can't help it. I don't want to.” “I know. He eased back, tucking a hand under her chin to lift her face to his. “We’re going to have to deal with it.” He kissed one wet cheek, then the other. “I really can’t do without you.“

Aren't most romance heros, or heros in fiction of any kind, generally superior to real men? Same goes for heroines and real women.

We make our own choices and we're each responsible for them. Blame and credit belong to the individual. You haven't the right to claim either from someone else.