“One of the primary tenets of the course was that highly successful leaders kept journals, morning and night, in order to stay tightly focused on their goals.”

“For the record, Irish," he informed her tightly, just in case she got the wrong idea, "I kneel to no one.”

“If he was winter, I was summer. If I was sunshine, he was night. A dark and stormy one.”

“I wasn't prepared for death. Nobody is. You lose someone you love more than you love yourself, and you get a crash course in mortality. You lie awake night after night, wondering if you really believe in heaven and hell and finding all kinds of reasons to cling to faith, because you can't bear to believe they aren't out there somewhere, a few whispered words of a prayer away.”

“You’re early.” I give him a mutinous look. Of course he thinks my being early is about him. It’s not. Mac was at Chester’s last night at eight. I think she’s hunting me. Since I can’t be late to avoid her, I have to be early. “Watch broke. Thought I was on time.” “You don’t wear a watch.” “See? I knew I had a problem. I’ll just dash out and get one. Be back tomorrow. On time.”

“Good night, Lisa. Sleep with the angels."Her eyes stung from quick tears. It had been her mother's nightly benediction: Sleep with the angels. But then he added words her mother never had: "Then come back to earth and sleep with your devil, who would burn in hell for one night in your arms.”

“He looked as if he'd stepped straight off the cover of one of those romance novels she ordered from Amazon.com so she didn't have to be embarassed by some supercilious male clerk in the bookstore.”