There it was, Eve supposed. There was the answer to why people got tangled up with people. Because when you were down, when you were wallowing, someone you mattered to would ask if you were okay.

It does not make you less of a woman to need a man. To need one to exist, yes, this is nonsense. To need one to give one scope and importance, this is dishonest. But to need a man, one man, to bring joy and passion? This is life

I read a lot - and I read a variety of genres.

It's an exceptional thing to have someone in your life who knows and understands you so well. Who loves who you are. A very exceptional thing.

It’s never simple.” Avery slid an arm around Hope’s waist. “It shouldn’t be. Because being with someone should matter enough to be at least a little bit complicated.

It's Major Ketchup in the bathroom with the laser scalpel." "Hmm." He sliced a delicately herbed spear of asparagus. "Obviously we were meant for each other as I can interpret that as you meaning something more like Colonel Mustard in the conservatory with the candlestick.

You are who you are. I know you. You believe that? "Yea but--" "You're Eve Dallas. You're the love of my life. My heart and Soul. You're a cop, mind and bone. You're a woman of strength and resilience. Stubborn, hardheaded, occassionally mean as a badger, and more generous that you'll admit.