You never really know what's coming. A small wave, or maybe a big one. All you can really do is hope that when it comes, you can surf over it, instead of drown in its monstrosity.

And when you fall, because you always do fall. When you swim for the beach to catch your board. There’s peace to be found in the shoreward pull with every passing wave.

Surfing's a more profound kind of sport than it looks. When you surf, you learn not to fight the power of nature, even if it gets violent.

We love surfers for the same reasons we have always admired doctors and pilots and firemen and shamans, for the same reasons we admire excellent soldiers: because despite themselves they have bowed to a force much greater than themselves, which in this case is the wave, and submitted to the gnarly rigors of its discipline. They have allowed themselves to be shaped and polished by the sea. They have given themselves up to this greater force, day after day, year after year. Crushed and punished, battered into something tempered and resilient, and sharpened to an edge by constant refinement. They are warriors in the best sense: by bending to the often brutal demands of surfing they have transformed themselves into beings who can respond to great violence with grace and humility. And beauty.

Internet makes you think that you have millions of friends, whereas you are your own friend.

Being a spy was something like standing on the south shore fending off a hurricane with a $2 poncho and an umbrella.

Being shaken to death by a Hawaiian tourist look-alike was not how Arena imagined her death.

Zane," she moaned. "Please touch me.""I will. I'm going to touch every inch of you until I know what makes you sigh and what makes you giggle and what makes you beg me to never stop. I'm going to make you shudder and scream so that long after tonight you'll remember the feel of my hands and exactly where they were on your body.""I'm going to die if you don't get on with it.

Montana should come with a surgeon general warning that it's addictive. The sky is big and blue, and the air is always fresh and crisp and scented with pine. There's a frontier spirit, but also a calmness, beauty in the landscape that slows your pulse.

You think everything revolves around Zane Hollander, don't you?""No. But I think your blush does.

His mouth opened, nudging her lips apart, and she let him in. He tangled his tongue with hers and made it impossible for her to breathe without him.The kiss took turns at tender, hot, relentless. She loved them all. She could kiss him all night, the passion and intensity always there -- in her mind, her body, her heart. This was the kind of first kiss she'd dreamed about.,,,She knew he'd just wiped out every other kiss she'd had. Knew deep down in her soul that no one would ever compare to Zane.Her Mr. Right Now.

There was no place else she'd rather be than slow-dancing on a beach with the sexiest, sweetest, most attentive man she'd ever been with.

Zane," she breathed, and in the back of his mind, he thought, This woman. I want this woman to say my name on the caress of a kiss a thousand more times.

I should have told you the minute I saw you that you look beautiful. I do love the way you look tonight.

He softly kissed her lips. "I'm going to rock your world tonight, and then I'm going to do it again. Only different. You're going to come undone, Sophie, every which way you can, and i won't stop until you do.

Take off your dress. Leave the pumps on. Lie down with your hands above your head, don't move..... oh sweet sugar snaps!

I never tired of picturing sharks.

Courtesy and kindness cultivate confidence with good Netiquette. Doing things right makes you feel good. NetworkEtiquette.net

Ability to find the answers is more important than ability to know the answers.

Lex surfed wicked, like the devil. He wasn’t afraid of anything, seemed like. He grinned at West as the waves came up toward them like towers of green glass, an emerald city. We’re off to see the wizard, he shouted. He whooped. His body crouched ready to fly. He shone against the sun.

I think of the horizon at midnight, the sky and sea blurring together.

Surfing and Life hold parallels.

Surfing is kind of a good metaphor for the rest of life. The extremely good stuff - chocolate and great sex and weddings and hilarious jokes - fills a minute portion of an adult lifespan. The rest of life is the paddling: work, paying bills, flossing, getting sick, dying.

It was all balance. But then, she already knew that from surfing.