“Cam laughed. "You know, my grandmother always said no woman with a decent vocabulary would resort to profanity."
Kori huffed. "My grandmother said, 'Get the hell out of my house, bitch, before I throw you out on your ass.”
“I realized that I'd rather die with you than live with someone else.”
“I'm searching for a shred of humanity in that shriveled tangle of arteries you call a heart.”
“Cedo nulli. Latin for "I yield to no one.”
“I love you, Olivia," he whispered, and my heart ached as if it would break in half. "You think we'll die if we stay together, but I've been dying slowly for the last six years. I'm taking my life back, Liv. Our life together. And this time, I'm not going to let you go.”
“You don't know me. Don't ever think you know me. The only things you know about me are the things you made me do, and that illustrates your character, not mine.”
“Congratulations. Your official super-nerd badge is in the mail.”
“You've been shot, Liv."
Oh. How the hell had I missed that?”
“That's because your new tracker couldn't find his own dick in the dark.”
“Wow," Liv said, when I dropped the mallet back into the drawer. "That looked like fun. I call dibs on the next over-the-top destruction of evidence.”
“The other three incoming calls were from his building superintendent, his pharmacy and a telephone survey company."
"Bastards. They always call during dinner."
Liv laughed as I slid the sliced steak onto a platter and topped it with sautéed vegetables. "Forget crime lords and corrupt politicians - telemarketers are the root of all evil."
"Now you're getting it.”
“Her mouth was open, as if she wanted to say something, and I wanted to kiss her to show her that sometimes you don't need words. Sometimes they only get in the way, and you end up talking yourself out of things you need. People you want.”
“I have choices," I insisted, refusing to break eye contact. "We both do. I may have to make mine carefully, and make a few compromises along the way, but I have a choice. I choose you.”
“Well that's too bad, because this is an assassination."
"No, this is an execution."
"The difference would be...?"
"Assassination is murder. Execution is justice.”
“Your wife is psychotic."
"Michaela is just angry. Anger does fascinating things to a woman - not two react the same."
"Yeah, well, she's overreacting. With a knife."
He nodded with a small, almost nostalgic smile. "It was my wedding gift to her. The handle is ivory."
Sick bastard. "Well, at least my murder weapon will have sentimental value."
"That's actually an honour, you know."
"I'll keep that in mind as my life flashes before my eyes.”
“I held her tighter, just because I could. Because she was fierce, and beautiful, and mind.”
“I laughed and it almost felt good. "Is that a dig at my liquor cabinet?"
Cam smiled. "That wasn't liquor, it was swill. And that wasn't a cabinet, it was a drawer.”
“I could take care of that obstacle for her - I'd tear down anything standing between us - but I couldn't destroy what I couldn't even see.”
“Why would you do that? Why the hell would you ever think I wanted you to do that? I’m supposed to protect you.”
Liv’s gaze hardened again. “Right after you drag me back to the cave by my hair, right? Damn, you can be a real asshole sometimes.”
“His safety was more important than anything to me. Even if he would never know enough to understand that.”
“At all costs the true world of childhood must prevail, must be restored; that world whose momentous, heroic, mysterious quality is fed on airy nothings, whose substance is so ill-fitted to withstand the brutal touch of adult inquisition.”
“We defer to authority figures because they are supposed to know more than we do. If a mistake is made, it's easy to lay the blame at their feet. Ultimately, however, we are responsible for choosing the authority figure we defer to. Choosing to defer to one who urges aggression against others still puts the responsibility on us.”
“There is only one place to find real peace, real harmony. That place is within,”
“While the egg yolks cooled, he directed the beaters at the egg whites, setting the mixer on high speed that sent small bubbles giggling to the side of the bowl, where a few became many until they were a white froth rising up and then lying down again in patters and ridges, leaving an intricate design like the ribs of a leaf in the wake of the beaters”
“And he no longer cared to tell which were things done and which dreamt.”
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