“I'm thinking of being a professional mourner. How hard can it be? Tear at your hair, sing a dirge or two, take the rest of the week off.”
“It was the sound of a thousand hungry children crying, ten thousand widows tearing their hair over their husband's graves, a chorus of angels singing the last dirge on the day of God's death.”
“I'm off for two weeks, so until I get back, take the characters in this tweet and parcel them out one per day. Use this Q wisely.”
“His hands clenched. "Sugar, I'm this close to tearing off your clothes and teaching you exactly how badly I take you keeping secrets from me. Your choice. Talk or get naked.”
“No, no, not at all. I'm a professional. If I can't take criticism, how will I ever grow?”
“I like people thinking I'm an asshole. Being an asshole is my life's vocation; I'm a goddamned asshole professional.”