I do love you. I think you know that, but just in case...I love you.
Isen wasn't a two birds with one stone kind of guy. More like one stone, two birds, a rabbit, a fox, and maybe that deer will trip over the fox and we can get him, too.
Marriage and especially the ceremony which announces it, the wedding... That is how we say to the world, 'These two are now a family, and with this joining our families are joined, too. And you had damned well better respect that.
Living is very serious, very real. It is also always a game. If we are wise, it is very real, very terrible, and very lovely, and a good deal of fun.
My feelings were hurt. Once I started I couldn't seem to let it go. Be strange if the person who matters most in the whole world couldn't hurt your feelings, wouldn't it?
Guilt always makes the other feelings worse.
Uh - do you want to do it outside? "Frequently. Oh, you meant the wedding. That, too.
Women were complicated creatures. Any man who thought he had one figured out simply wasn’t paying attention,
Don't call the man a claustrophobe just because small spaces scare him. Right.
We don't go to the ocean for anything as simple as happiness, do we? We go there to feel alive. Like life, the ocean holds chance and change, grief and terror and beauty. It promises mortality, not peace.
Dogs make sense. They understand hierarchy and the need to cooperate. They come when you call them. A cat though—a cat will take your number and get back to you. Maybe. If he’s in a good mood.
This was what she needed… the quiet turning to the other in the middle of the night, the wordless meeting of lips, skin, breath. The trust, unfurling one pale petal at a time, that he would be there.
But when you slice truth too thin, you deceive.
What?" She drew herself up, stern as a cat presented with the wrong food for dinner.
He stared at the heart of his heart, the one woman in the world for him
It's okay to play turtle for a while, as long as you don't get too fond of your shell.
I see you. I will be careful with the places that hurt.
People always wanted someone to blame, didn't they?
Bleeding isn't optional for most of us.
Religion turned some folks belligerent.
Humans were peculiar. They were by turns squeamish and appallingly violent.
You're so far off base this time you can't even see the base!
Who wants to feel everything everyone else feels all the time?
Regrets are the most useless form of guilt. They always arrive too late to do any good.
How to put this feeling, this certainty, into something as limited as words?
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