“(On Baron von Blixen:)Six feet of amiable Swede and, to my knowledge, the toughest, most durable White Hunter ever to snicker at the fanfare of safari or to shoot a charging buffalo between the eyes while debating whether his sundown drink will be gin or whisky.”

“People in the West like to shoot things. When they first got to the West they shot buffalo. Once there were 70 million buffalo on the plains and then the people of the West started blasting away at them. Buffalo are just cows with big heads. If you've ever looked a cow in the face and seen the unutterable depths of trust and stupidity that lie within, you will be able to guess how difficult it must have been for people in the West to track down buffalo and shoot them to pieces. By 1895, there were only 800 buffalo left, mostly in zoos and touring Wild West shows. With no buffalo left to kill, Westerners started shooting Indians. Between 1850 and 1890 they reduced the number of Indians in America from two million to 90,000.Nowadays, thank goodness, both have made a recovery. Today there are 30,000 buffalo and 300,000 Indiands, and of course you are not allowed to shoot either, so all the Westerners have left to shoot at are road signs and each other, both of which they do rather a lot. There you have a capsule history of the West.”

“Jace: I shall Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein.”

“...he was muttering my name over and over. Gin, Gin, Gin. Like it was some sort of prayer—or a curse. Sexiest damn thing I’d ever heard.”

“Randy stared into the glass he held in his hand, gazing into its cobra eyes. A double shot of thirty-year-old single malt whisky. You can’t be an alcoholic when you only drink top shelf. Right?”

“I did not ask you out. But I would seriously think about not shooting you down if you asked me. Nicely." I had to keep my pride.He took both of my hands in his. "Brenna Blixen will you be my girlfriend, please." He held up one of my hands and kissed my knuckles smoothly. "Pretty please. With sugar on top.”