For once, he slept first. She lay in the dark, listening to him breathe, stealing a little of his warmth as her own body cooled. Since he was asleep, she stroked his hair. "I love you," she murmured. "I love you so much, I'm stupid about it." With a sigh, she settled down, closed her eyes, and willed her mind to empty. Beside her, Roarke smiled into the dark. He never slept first.

You can't write well what you don't read for pleasure. If it doesn't entertain you, it's not going to entertain anyone else.

Moments came and went, she thought. It was love that bound them together into a life.

I find I use the Internet more and more. It's just an invaluable tool. I do most of my research on the Net now - and certainly do the bulk of my communicating through email.

A relationship isn't something that has to be created in a day or perfected in a day. Part of the game is to keep working on it. It's something that'll always be just a little flawed.

[First line] “The business of murder took time, patience, skill, and a tolerance for the monotonous.

"It doesn't matter how long it takes." She thought of him, of them, the lifetime already shared. "It's how long it lasts."