“Please don’t spoil my day; I’m miles away and, after all, I’m only sleeping.”

“My grandpa passed a few days ago. But I’m not sad. He was only driving 20 miles an hour, so I’m sure I’ll catch up to him.”

“But you're sleep, and you're a few miles away, and I have no means to get to you right now, so I’m writing.”

“From Bought: The Greek's Innocent Virgin ... He drew in a long breath. ‘You are very difficult to please.’‘No, I’m not. I’m easy to please. When you peel my orange for breakfast, you please me. When you rub my shoulders before I go to sleep, that pleases me. When you defend me from a nasty comment, that pleases me. I’m easy to please, Angelos.’ Her heart was pounding. ‘Just don’t try and buy me.”

“I’m done. I’m old, I’m sad - that’s on a good day. I want out of this mess. But I don’t want to fade away, I want to flame away - I want my death to be an attraction, a spectacle, a mystery. A work of art.”

“I’m on the road, Butte is 58 miles away, and I’m driving 85 mph. So I should be there in an hour. Oh, if only love were so easy to calculate.”