MaryJanice Davidson · 271 pages
Rating: (20.6K votes)
“I—I adore you, too. Well, I don't know if I adore you. That's not really the word I'd use. But I—I—" I managed to wrench it out. God, this was hard! "I love you."
"Of course you do," he said, totally unsurprised.
"WHAT? I finally tell you my deepest, most personal feelings and you're all, 'Yeah, I already got that memo'? This, this is why you drive me nuts! This is why it's so hard to tell you things! I take it back.”
“He snarled at me. "This isn't over yet, Betsy."
"Excellent," I said. "I would also have accepted 'You haven't seen the last of me' and 'You'll regret this'.”
“George you were very very bad to run away from Alice. Very bad But you were very good to stomp Sinclair when he was being a dick so I think we'll call this a wash.”
“Sinclair doesn't love your sister."
"Not yet." I said darkly. "Give him time."
"Look, I'm sure he's interested in her—"
"Wait till you see her. Just wait."
"Like he doesn't have pussy thrown at him from cars?"
"What a horrifying mental image.”
“I swore we'd never be together, but—'
'Your inner whore would not be denied.' she finished.”
“My my Laura Goodman. I must say that is a charming name for a charming young lady."
"Eric's old." I broke in. "Really really old."
"Er— really?" Laura asked. "Gosh you don't look even out of your thirties."
"Tons of face-lifts. He's a surgical addict. I'm trying to get him help." I added defensively when they both gave me strange looks.”
“I've always assumed he'd be around to be, you know, yelled at and taken for granted. And of course I was wrong. Nobody's going to put up with that forever.”
“Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" I snapped. "If I want to take my sister to my place of business, that's my own damned business and not any of your business." Was I overusing the word business? Fuck it. "So mind your own business.”
“What's amazing is that she was possessed by Satan for almost a year and nobody noticed anything unusual!”
“...you just never knew when a totally normal vampire errand would end in a bloodbath with severed-limb soap.”
“There was a man and he had eight sons. Apart from that, he was nothing more than a comma on the page of History. It's sad, but that's all you can say about some people.”
“We may insist as often as we like that man's intellect is powerless in comparison to his instinctual life, and we may be right in this. Nevertheless, there is something peculiar about this weakness. The voice of the intellect is a soft one, but it will not rest until it has gained a hearing. Finally, after a countless succession of rebuffs, it succeeds.”
“I'll never take it for granted again. I'll always be grateful for every spring that comes along.”
“Unless Lin made the whole thing up - and nobody has said that he did - it suggest that however innovative Obama's speeches and Lin's show might seem, they are, in fact, traditional. They don't reinvent the American character, they renew it. They remind us of something we forgot, something that fell as far out of sight as the posthumously neglected Alexander Hamilton, who spent his life defending one idea above all: "the necessity of Union to the respectability and happiness of this Country." Obama's speeches and Lin's show resonate so powerfully with their audiences because they find eloquent ways to revive Hamilton's revolution, the one that spurred Americans to see themselves and each other as fellow citizens in a sprawling, polyglot, young republic. It's the change in thought and feeling that makes all the other changes possible.”
“Cabel flicks his fingers at her, spraying her with water. Grinning. "Sure. I think I'm pretty lucky. I bet blind people have great sex. I'll even wear a blindfold so it's fair." He bumps his hips lightly against hers.”
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