I'll take care of my mother," he said grimly. "I love her, but she doesn't run my life." "Yeah, that's what we all say. You. Me. Lucy." She stabbed the stick into the dirt. "These are powerful women. They're sane, they're smart, they rule their worlds, and they love us ferociously. A potent combination that makes it touch to pretend they're normal mothers.

Thanks to April,” she whispered, “you have the wedding you’ve dreamed about ever since you were a little girl.” Dean’s boom of laughter was one more reason she loved this man with all her heart.

I love you, Meg. I want to marry you. I want to sleep with you every night, make love with you, have kids. I want to fight together and work together and—just be together. Now are you going to keep standing there, staring at me, or could you put me out of my misery and say you still love me, at least a little?

Was there some basic flaw in her makeup that made her keep falling in love with this man who couldn’t love her back?

Something brushed his leg, and he gazed down into the face of Pippi Tucker. The theme from Jaws raced through his head.

Ironic, isn't it, what religion does to people?" "I guess it's more ironic what people do to religion.

You remind me of someone with a bad toothache who's hitting herself in the head with a hammer to distract herself from the pain in her mouth.