If I let myself love you, I won't throw myself in front of her. I'll throw myself in front of you.

Bless you, daugher of man.

Too bad you got so bogged down in books. You've got the spirit of a warrior.

Yes, I-- I think I love her. Is that nuts?

I had a standing arrangement with God: I'd agree to believe in him—barely—so long as he let me sleep in on Sundays.

I can't wait until this show gets on the road," he said. "You and me are going to have so much fun, Rose. Picking out curtains, doing each other's hair, telling ghost stories..." The reference to "ghost stories" hit a little closer to home than I was comfortable with. Not that choosing curtains or brushing Christian's hair was much more appealing.

We need to be together." "Why?" I asked softly. The word was carried away on the wind, but he heard. "Because I want you." I gave him a sad smile, wondering if we'd meet again in the land of the dead. "Wrong answer," I told him. I let go