Lulu twirled in front of Jolene, banging into the seat. her eyes sparkled in that I'm-either-going-to-scream-or-fall-asleep-any-second kind of way.

He is a man, and he is afraid. This is not a good combination.

He'd learned in the past few months that telling a girl what to wear--even one the size of a golf club--was a bad idea. Histrionics often followed.

No sensible man ever engages, unprepared, in a fencing match of words with a woman.

My hardest job has been to keep from being a millionaire.

Dancing is a sweat job.

You know, I lose patience really easily; I'd rather shop in the grocery store than in the department store. I can pick an apple like nobody's business.

I used to get criticized for putting food in novels.

The fact that wealthy people or people from privileged backgrounds may wind up in a violent terrorist organization is not new.

What's to be the reason for becoming man and wife, is it love that brings you here, or love that gives you life?

I had to learn American sign language. And I did stuff in it, stuff that was just for me and was fun, that I don't think anyone would ever notice.

I love chocolate. Black chocolate with marshmallow inside, caramel inside. If I could only have two foods, I'd take some fantastic chocolate. And some terrible chocolate. I love the Clark Bar.