I was just trying to get his attention!" the man protested at the top of his lungs. "If he'da listened, I wouldn'ta had to bash him.

The security officer smiled and said, ‘Good afternoon, ma’am,’ to me before I gave him ID.” “It’s a sick world, Eve.” He resisted taking her hand for another squeeze. “A sick, sad world.

A woman who can threaten your life before breakfast is the only sort of woman worth having.

Why?” Eve leaned forward. “Sincerely, I’ve always wanted to know why anyone buys multiple pairs of shoes at a time.” “If I have to explain it, the joy is lost.

Listen carefully. I'd crush you like a bug for causing my wife one single moment of pain. Believe it. Fear it.

Getting a room's not always enough. Sometimes you gotta close the door.

I think writer is a word without gender, and a good writer observes, absorbs, hopefully empathizes then translates that into character and story. You don’t have to do or be or have experienced, traveled to, but you have to imagine all of that, very well–and believe it completely during the bubble of the work.