Honey, no offense, but sometimes I think I could shoot you and watch you kick.

All this, all of this love we're talking about, it would just be a memory. Maybe not even a memory. Am I wrong? Am I way off base? Because I want you to set me straight if you think I'm wrong. I want to know. I mean, I don't know anything, and I'm the first one to admit it.

He wondered if she wondered if he were watching her.

Get in, get out. Don't linger. Go on.

I guess my writing has changed as my life has.

There's literary creation and literary business. When I first got something accepted, it gave my life a validation it didn't otherwise have.

What do any of us really know about love?