I wonder if you can understand, I never really knew what it was to want, until you.

You didn’t hurt me, the situation did. And now that I know why I felt that way, it won’t hurt.

I find myself fascinated by a man who admits to enjoying fairy tales and uses the word "impinge"- barely misses a beat while indulging in a brief girl-on-girl fantasy. You're a man of layers, Ford." Me and Shrek, we're onions.

You're the woman in my life,” he said. “Another thing about me and my brothers? We look after the women in our lives. We don't know any other way.

You have to trust or you're only living half a life.

Who's with her?" Roarke asked, though he already knew. It was just like her. "With her? Oh, ah, hmmm. Webster." Silence fell, a clatter of broken bricks. Peabody folded her hands in her pockets and prepared for the explosion to follow. "I see." When Roarke simply turned back to the screen and continued, she didn't know whether to be relieved or scared to death.

I never had a plan, except to write. I love what I do, and have from the beginning. Loving what you do makes it a lot easier to work, every day, to face the tough spots and heel in for the long haul. Nothing against plans; they work for some people. But for me, if I'd been planning, worrying about numbers, trying to micro-manage my career, I wouldn't have focused on the writing. If you don't write, you're not read. If you're not read, you don't sell. So that's my Master Plan, I guess. Write the books, let the agent agent, the editor edit, the publisher publish.