Quotes from Josh Lanyon

He woke with Max's arms wrapped around his torso and Max's genitals soft against his ass. And for the first time in days he wasn't aware of wanting anything but breakfast. Breakfast and Max. Not necessarily in that order.

Laroche was wrong about that, wrong about men not understanding love. Anyway, most of the romantic poems and songs and paintings in the world were by men, so what was she talking about?

He smelled like soap and sleep and bare skin. He smelled familiar. Not the deja vu familiar of Guy or Mel. Familiar like... the ache in your chest of homesickness, of longing for harbor after weeks of rough seas or craving a fire's warmth after snow--or wanting back something you should never have given away.

And then I sagged forward, utterly spent, emptied…light as air. I felt like I could have floated up and out…slipping through the open window and drifting away across the rooftops and satellite dishes and telephone wires…sailing away into the faintly smiling stars.

There, long forgotten by me, were several glass-front cases loaded with books. I dropped the broom and approached slowly, my pulse quickening in excitement known only to book lovers in the advanced stage of addiction.

My motto has always been: why wait till tomorrow when you can worry today?

First of all, ideas aren't the hard part. Secondly, there are no new ideas, only the author's unique execution.

If there was one thing I learned in the last twenty-four hours, it was how short life is – how long death – and how there was never enough love to go around.

I love you, Kit. I just do." I muttered, "Well, you don't have to sound like it's against your will.

I didn't believe we had ever been this tentative - not even in the very beginning. Perhaps especially not in the very beginning. We gave each other plenty of time for second thoughts, for a change of heart. We were polite with the buttons and respectful of the zippers. And all the while we watched each other's face, eyes locked.

The best fiction captures the truth of real life.

But casual dress or no, he looked like the guy in charge. Of everything. Everywhere.

You say potato, I say potahto." "I say rice pilaf. I say you're trying to distract me with talk of side dishes.

what the hell did you do to Detective Dean? She talks about you like she thinks you're the devil. Did you really tell her the Partridge Family were potential suspects?" I cleared my throat. "That was a misunderstanding." "She thinks you're deliberately trying to make fools out of them." I said shortly, "It wouldn't be hard. But no.

I determinedly weaved my way through the crowd, hauling my medical apparatus behind me like my little red wagon.

Kit-He said my name again and again.Just...Kit.We held each other tight,rocking,trying to milk the last drops of sensation.Wring the last flashes of lightening.Riders on the storm.

Jake fried up the fish, cooked rice with garlic, cilantro and green onions. Someday he was going to make some woman a wonderful wife.

High school, college, the office, evil cults, everywhere you go, there's that social hierarchy to contend with.

Maybe he had a gaydar anti-cloaking device.

Define history. Was it the sequence of factual past events, the stories about the factual sequence of past events, or the interpretation of the stories about past events?

Surrounded by glistening pine trees, enveloped by rain and fog, for the first time it occurred to Elliot that his extended period of solitude just might be turning into loneliness.

Most people don't fall out of love at the same time. One person always wants more than the other person can give them. And that ends in bitterness.

Swift opened his eyes. "Your fingers are shaking." Max nodded. "Adrenaline. It's pretty exciting seeing your friend's car get shot full of holes. Especially with your friend sitting inside." Swift nodded too. "From my side too.

A lot of kids are shocked at the idea of people over thirty having sex." (Max)