“I was lying there trying to control the fear. I did not know much about this uremic poisoning. A woman I'd known slightly in Texas had died of it after drinking a bottle of beer ever hour, night and day, for two weeks.”

“I rarely drink, but last night, after several hours and several beers at the bar, I found myself face to face with two huge boobs. They weren’t the breasts of a young woman, but those of an old man. Still, the taste of a nipple is genderless.”

“I was rich in those days, for a week I had everything. I wish I'd known you then.”

“For two weeks, he’d come here after putting in a twelve-hour day at the studio. Two long weeks of watching, aching. And for what? Isabeau Montgomery wanted nothing to do with him. She had him completely at her feet, and she didn’t even know it. Hell, had she known, she most likely wouldn’t care.”

“I once had a dream about a woman, and the next day she died. I stopped sleeping for three days after that to try to save some lives, but then my body relented and I went back to being a murderer.”

“It had been three weeks, four days and twelve hours since I'd seen her. Since she'd torn my heart out. If I had been drinking, I'd blame it on the alcohol. It had to be an illusion, a desperate one. But I hadn't been drinking. Not a drop. There was no mistaking Blaire. It was her. She was actually here. Blaire was back in Rosemary. She was at my house.”