I do not kill with my gun; He who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart.

Semi-automatic s have only two purposes. One is so owners can take them to the shooting range once in a while, yell yeehaw, and get all horny at the rapid fire and the burning vapor spurting from the end of the barrel. Their other use-their only other use-is to kill people.

I was being paid to do what I loved, and there's no gig on earth better than that; it's like a license to steal.

True love, like any other strong and addicting drug, is boring — once the tale of encounter and discovery is told, kisses quickly grow stale and caresses tiresome… except, of course, to those who share the kisses, who give and take the caresses while every sound and color of the world seems to deepen and brighten around them. As with any other strong drug, true first love is really only interesting to those who have become its prisoners. And, as is true of any other strong and addicting drug, true first love is dangerous.

I have an idea of how the book will finish up, but it very rarely finishes up the way that I think it's going to.

There's nothing like stories on a windy night when folks have found a warm place in a cold world.

I do have one slightly crooked wheel upstairs, but everything else is ticking along just four-o, thank you very much.