When male authors write love stories, the heroine tends to end up dead.
His writer's words poured over her like poetry, and she couldn't find a single wisecrack to put up between them.
We’re all works in progress, honey. And believe me when I tell you that I’ve had to work harder than most.
You couldn't be satisfied with being an amateur asshole, could you, Jimbo! You had to go and turn pro on me!
Here’s the life lesson I’ve learned, Fifi: Some people are born to play the hero, and some are born to play the bad guy. Fighting your destiny only makes life harder than it needs to be. Besides, people remember the villain long after they’ve forgotten the hero.
He shook his head. "The next time I hear a women going on about how neurotic men are, I'm going to remember this. You tell me you like my body, and what do I say? I say, thank you. Then I tell you I like yours and what do I hear? A long lists of grievances.
You know that we've got a few problems we need to talk through before we get married."
"I'm not getting rid of Pooh."
"See, there you go being antagonistic. Marriage means learning to compromise."
"I didn't say I wouldn't compromise. I promise to take the ribbon out of her topknot before you walk her.
The engine roared to life. He ran toward her. She shot our of her parking space. He rushed to the side of her car. "Stop it, Kristy! You're overreacting! Let's talk about this." That was when she did the unthinkable. She rolled down the window, thrust out her hand, and gave Reverend Ethan Bonner the bird.
So, Beav, tell me about yourself."
"I'm Blue."
"Sweetheart, if I had your dubious taste in men, I wouldn't be too happy, either."
"My name is Blue. Blue Bailey.
[Bobby Tom] finally understood Gracie's function in his life. She was God's joke on him.
He grinned, and right then it occurred to him that he hadn't enjoyed himself so much with a woman in a very long time. If Annabelle Granger were a few inches taller, a hell of a lot more sophisticated, better organized, less bossy, and more inclined to worship at his feet, she'd have made a perfect wife.
You try spending six months sitting at somebody's bedside, waiting for them to die and then tell me that the happy-ending love story isn't one of God's good gifts.
Uhm, Kevin..."
"Be quiet, or I swear to God I'll take you right here."
Yes, this was definitely Forced Sex.
Thank goodness.