The truth is I do love you. Admitting that means opening myself up to all that pain when you leave. After you realize this wasn’t love, but gratitude.

I think only when you are truly alone can you see you never were.

Before she knew it, she was just another set of eyes in a dusty attic, waiting for the stairs to creak.

She needed to come with an instructional manual. And one not written in Spanish.

There’s a lot of frogs to kiss before you realize they’re all frogs.

Orgasms are a myth. Like good credit scores.

When the leaves stop falling wasn't her time to die, it was your time to live.

I loved you as a boy and fell in love with you as a man. You’re in here so deep that there is no you, no me. Only us.

You knew me before I made my millions, and you were nice to me when you didn’t have to be. That’s the kind of person I want in my corner.

There. Let the gods of friendship and common sense strike him dead.

The day I died was just like any other idle Thursday.

He needed a stiff drink. With a side of straightjacket.

Beauty like hers had no place in his life.

Matters of the heart were important, but people tended to put too much stock in the particular organ when, in retrospect, it was only tissue. It pumped blood and the body couldn’t live without it, sure, but it had no actual bearing on love. The soul was what made a person distinct—the part that lived on after death, how one being connected to another, and what bound essence.

Hunter versus prey, and the look in his eyes told her, in no uncertain terms, eating her alive was a distinct possibility.

You keep looking at me like that and we won't make it through dinner. I'll take you right there on that counter. No doubt you'd taste better.

Say yes. Open your eyes, see that it's me, and say yes.

He couldn’t grab reality if he attempted the task with both hands.

Go get dirty, baby girl. And I mean the naked kind.

I don’t just want you to come. I want you to come undone

I remain someone of little consequence, as if nothing more than dandelion fluff caught on a breeze.

I look at you and my heart pounds, when for years, I don't think it beat at all. You fill the cracks and crevices, take away the emptiness. And when you're not by my side, the loss is unimaginable.

She had platonic all but tattooed on her forehead.

I'm still the same guy you knew five minutes ago.

We are all the same and we are all different. What great friends we will be.

If you’re trying to tell me you’re not used to mattering to someone, I might just bleed out right here on the floor.

A city full of eight million people. It was all rather lonely sometimes.

He'd bet his right nut her skin would taste as good as it smelled.

I want you. And I usually get what I want. I had to wait too long to have you already.

The first sign that Karma was now in cahoots with the Devil Incarnate to ruin her existance should've been before sunrise and pre-coffee.

Turned out, monsters were capable of love after all. But it didn’t mean they should.

Life Lessons According to Camryn:One must handle stress like a dog; if you can't eat it or play with it, pee on it and walk away

An hour in her presence, and he was ready to hit his knees, submit to her every whim.

The time has come. I know you, and now you will know me. Ever Yours.

Lucifer was engraving Nate’s name on a cage right now.

I have something I need to get off my chest.”“What’s that?”“This.” He closed his mouth over hers.

At least that left hope for him. Except "Beauty and the Geek" wasn’t exactly the proper translation of the popular fairy tale.

Maybe pulling her emotions out and inserting in his logic would change this morbid course. But damn if he’d joke about it like she did.

This was sharing office space with wacko and bordering on ludicrous.

I'd have your back off-site too, if you'd let me." ~Cain, Ghost of You

She had yet to actually call him by his real name. The psychologist in him had all kinds of theories as to why. The man in him wanted to hear her say it. Just once.

It took a pair of ghosts to open my eyes.

Calm down. Ghosts don’t ring the doorbell.

Considering I'm a writer, you leave me strangely bereft of words.

He could’ve penned a rendition of Moby Dick in Pig Latin and he wouldn’t have been the wiser.

He bit back a weary sigh and tried to remember strangling her would solve squat.

You are no star, Gabby. You're the sky. The rest of us are just circling your orbit.

Considering she’d just blown his gray matter into the ether, he was screwed.

Urges. Mercy, the urges.

The algorithms in his hard drive scrambled and his coding short-circuited. Like she’d downloaded a virus right into his system, he got feverishly hot.

Damn, her mouth was a weapon.

She held my face in her hands as if I was the treasure.

Maybe he was going to hell. Except, he could’ve sworn that was where he’d been the past ten years.

Yes, best friend of mine. I am the famous photographer you've admired for years, and the man who's admired you.

Lord, but did he grow up nice.

He could be doing quantum physics in his head or undressing her in his mind—she’d never know the difference.

He didn’t know what was hotter, her Star Wars reference or the breathiness with which she spoke it.

I’d tell you not to swoon, but he’d catch you, so never mind.

We all have our handicaps. You're not mine.

God. He was an eye-gasm if she ever saw one.

How southern belle of her.

Her mother and memory lapses were BFFs.

Hazard of the job. That's Ode de Anal Gland you smell.

Just about every available female--and some unavailable--seemed to think the way to his heart was through his blood sugar levels.

I'll never get to hear her say, 'I love you, Mommy,' like other parents take for granted.

She was supposed to be my salvation, and though she wouldn’t be my ruin, the loss was going to thrust my life right back to what started my downward spiral in the first place.

Organization takes the fun out of everything.

He'd never need a camera to remember this, and damn if he ever wanted anyone but him to see her like she was at this moment.

He was going to need God Almighty to come down from On High to explain this one.

He slid the photo out and raised it. The sun washed out any distinguishable characteristics. All except her eyes. He didn’t need a picture to remember those. As turquoise as the waters near Cozumel, and just as warm.

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he was going out with a rifle in his hand.

Redemption was asking too much, but he could hope. Something told him he’d still be seeking absolution when he took his last breath on some distant day.

He was a drool-worthy, panty-drenching, yummy work of masculine art.

For a guy who wore layers upon layers of armor, his give-a-shit was showing.

I give you my love & my luck. Don't throw either away.

Common sense got drunk and giddy when Olivia was on the premises. Maybe he should just raise a glass, too, and dub reason a lost cause.

She was thinking of doing a little Cuervo therapy.

She broke my heart over and over, day after day, but I love her.

Her sudden grin depleted some of his brain cells. She was evil like that.

That dress was designed to be a kill switch for rational thought.

She may resemble a mythical angel, but she moved like an x-rated wet dream

Love is a gift. One that doesn't need to be returned, just accepted.

Delicately, she parted her lips, swept them against his, and kissed first his top, then the bottom. Letting her lead, he pinched his brows together and held still. She didn’t come at him with fire. She told him a story. And he’d be damned if it didn’t start with once upon a time like she were proving he was some kind of hero. Specifically, hers.

She knew her place in this family, always had. Knew why she was conceived. And it wasn't for a photo on the mantle.

If this was what caring about someone was like, what the hell was he supposed to do? Because he couldn’t handle it, couldn’t live like this.