Why?” He tilted his head. “That’s a tricky one. Could it be your serenity, your quiet manner, your flawless fashion sense?” It did his heart good to see her quick, amused grin. “No, I must be thinking of someone else. It must be your courage, your absolute dedication to balancing scales, that restless mind, and that sweet corner of your heart that pushes you to care so much about so many.” “That’s not me.” “Oh, but it is you, darling Eve.

You spend your life getting walked on, you learn to recognize the tread.

To fate and the strange way that it twists us all together.

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

Anyone that has character leaves a mark on another. Would you like to leave the world without making a ripple?

Give them your brains, girl, never your guts.

...She'd gone past interest, swung into attraction, burst through lust, tripped over affection, and was now skidding out of control into love.