“Are you going to do it? Go on. You have to do it. I bet you won’t be any crapper than I was.”Fat Charlie shrugged, in a way that, he hoped, indicated that he contained within him depths of crap as yet unplumbed.”

“You go in, I go in.""Listen---"He took her face in his hands."You go, I go. That's non-negotiable. If we're to get blasted to hell or poisoned into lunatics, we do it together.""Crap, Crap. You have to look less rich and gorgeous."God help him, she made him grin. "I'll do what I can.”

“I hope you make it through law school still feeling like you do.' 'Why wouldn't I?' I asked him. And he answered, 'Sometimes you start off going one way and you eng up going another way and you don't know how it happened.”

“You have to tell him ‘go toodles, Bits, go toodles for momma,’” I said, pitching my voice high in imitation, “or else he won’t go.” Blane looked at me. “I’m not doing that,” he said flatly. “But then he’ll go on the bed,” I protested. “How about I just point my gun at him,” he deadpanned.”

“I want to make a bet with you.”Her interest perked up. “You do? About what?”Already knowing it wouldn’t go over well, Spencer braced himself. “I bet you can’t go a month without cursing.”Her chin tucked in, and her brows came down. “What does that have to do with anything?”He had no idea, except that it annoying him to hear her be so coarse. “Go a month without cursing.” He hated himself, but he said, “Every time you slip, you owe me a kiss.”

“He took her face in his bloody hands. "I’ll come and find you wherever you are. I’ll not stop breathing until I do. So you’re going to have to promise me that you won’t lose hope. That you will keep yourself alive.”