Quotes from Heather Graham

huggers and the politicians in Washington. Still others posted links to gun dealer sites and local gun ranges providing training on tactical fire and maneuver techniques used by the military.

Don was anything but a wimp. He'd served two tours in the Middle East and was still in the reserve. Tall, not dark but red-headed, and very handsome. Working with him at Barrington Advertising, she'd fallen a bit in love the minute they had met—something, she hoped, she'd kept to herself.

He says that he saw you first. That by right, you are his captive. He says that Buffalo Run really has no right to you, that he has pampered you, that he has scorned the Comanche ways. He says that you should be his slave, and that he intends to take you.

we all have a tendency to mistrust each other, to be suspicious of what we don't understand.

It would all be fine. Darcy could handle any man, living... Or dead.

Anything, Christa?" he said. "Anything? What you're asking me to do is a mockery. So you had best mean it. You would do anything to save this place. You'd marry that white trash. You'd marry me.

Redheads were always trouble.

The dead bodies I saw all stayed that way. (...) Death is usually ugly, but always complete.

I'm all for that suggestion." "Don't grin at me like that. We're both keeling

Ah, hell, we all thought she was the hottest thing since fire had been invented

A woman scorned," he repeated. "Is deadly. Deadly, deadly...dead.

And you ma'am, are pure sweetness and light!" He grinned slowly. He mocked her in return, but he was surprisingly, wickedly handsome.

group of tourists passed them. "We came with Amy and Woodrow Watson

He shook his head. "Scrub my back—and tell me more about the trip out here." "Ask me nicely." His silver eyes touched hers. "All right. Please scrub my back and tell me about the trip." She smiled, and tossed the washcloth his way. "No!" "All right, you little southern vixen," he warned. "Scrub my back or—" "Or what?" "I'll climb out of this tub, drag you back into it, and scrub yours.

I don't have any chips on my shoulder. History is history

No, Christa, it's not me. Maybe I'm not your Rebel lover. Maybe I am your Yankee husband. But in every way, I swear to you, I've sought to give what I would take. And I know that I've touched your senses. You hold back because you would continue to wage war in our bed. But I tell you, my love, no more. No more, after this night!" "Don't—" she began. "Jesu, Christa! Give me a chance, give us both a chance!

All right, McCauley. Just what the hell are you doing in bed with my sister? I need an explanation, and a good one!" "There's a damned good one," he said lightly, addressing Jesse but his eyes narrowing on Daniel. "She's my wife.

The world is not always ours to understand....

There are idiots in every crowd.

Bad dogs, she believed, were like most bad children: created by those around them. But then, that was a personal opinion.

Lord knows---and we both know --- that too many wrongs have been committed in the name of religion. ... But you're not here in the name of religion. Religion is an organization. Faith is within. ... Catholic, cattolico--- it means universal. Too often we forget that.

Courage is being afraid - and going ahead, anyway.

I believe that there's more to life than what we see.

Along our chosen paths, we all meet up with demons. We must meet them, and battle them, even when they are nothing but mist in the night.