He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. "He's ill, Jacob." I say nothing. "He's a paragon schnitzophonic." "He's what?!" "Paragon schnitzophonic," repeats Uncle Al. "You mean paranoid schizophrenic?" "Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he's mad as a hatter.

I had my whole life planned.. I knew exactly where it was taking me.

Do you have any idea how much an elephant drinks?

Honey, I plan to marry you the moment the ink is dry on that death certificate.

I have to convince myself that this is not a pointless life, even the body is telling me so.

The more distressing the memory, the more persistent it's presence.

Juliet is one of those rare novels that has it all: lush prose, tightly intertwined parallel narratives, intrigue, and historical detail all set against a backdrop of looming danger. Anne Fortier casts a new light on one of history's greatest stories of passion. I was swept away.