I want you more than I should," she heard herself say. "I have you less than I want.

Life is like a moustache. It can be wonderful or terrible. But it always tickles.

Put all your eggs in one basket... the handle's going to break. Then all you've got is scrambled eggs.

Happily ever after?" "If justice doesn't triumph and love doesn't make the circle in entertainment fiction, what's the point? Real life sucks too often.

There I go being critical again. Does a man have to stand on one foot and juggle for me to consider him entertaining? What am I looking for? A knight?...No, knights are all polished and shiny. I think my taste runs to something with a bit of tarnish and maybe a few scratches. Someone who can make me laugh and cry and make me angry and make my knees tremble when he touches me.

I think I've just lost five pounds in fear sweat." Peabody mopped at her face. "Now I want a cannoli. I don't know why." With a laugh, Roarke shifted to grin at her. "I'll buy you a dozen, precious." "Cannolis, for God's sake.

Life is never as long as we want it to be, and wasted time can never be recovered.