This is America. We’re entitled to our opinions.” “Wrong. This is Texas. And my opinion is the only one that counts.

Phoebe tapped the toe of her sneaker against the dock. “There’s only one good use for a man like Heath Champion.” “Here we go again,” Molly muttered. Phoebe’s lip curled. “Target practice.

Figure out what depletes you creatively and get it out out of your life. (This doesn't apply to spouse and kids.) Give yourself permission to put garbage on the screen. A lot of days it's the only way you'll be able to keep going. You can clean it up later.

She reached into the pocket of her dress and threw the small stack of bills at him. They fluttered to the ground like broken dreams. "I hope you choke on every penny." "Pick that up." She drew back her arm and slapped him as hard as she could.

He sounds like Jesus. Except rich and sexy.” “Watch it, Meg. In this town joking about Jesus could get you shot. You’ve never seen so many of the faithful who’re armed.

I never thought I'd have to give you-a former Sunday School teacher-a lecture on ethics." "Former Sunday School teachers don't go around without their underwear." "You show me where it says that in the Bible.

Save your sweet talk for later, Daphne. The garbage guys just drove up with the new Dumpster." "Shut the lid after you climb in.