“Are you sure, Gray?'He lifted his eyes. 'No . . . I'm not. I'm not sure of a damn thing.' He slipped his hands free of the monsignor's and peeled the battery off the phone, cutting the last ring in half. 'But that doesn't mean I won't act.”

“He counted his steps. That was how you got through tough things. You counted. Once you said, "one," then you knew "two" was coming, and "three" right after that.”

“He does, and his eyes shoot to mine, wide and gray, alive with wonder and joy. His lip part in disbelief. The word YES flashes on and off on the key ring. "Happy birthday", I whispered.”

“I was waiting for you," he says softly, his eyes dark gray and luminous."That's... that's such a lovely thing to say.""It's true. I didn't know it at the time." He smiles his shy smile."I'm glad you waited.""You are worth waiting for, Mrs. Grey.”

“His own cabinat of cuoriositie”

“Gray imagined Kat scolding her husband in an operatic duet that has been going on between husbands and wives for ages, that eternal mix of exasperation and love." -- James Rollins”

“Wringin' your hands only stops you from rollin' up your sleeves.”