“He’d spent the night in the boat. Next to the spaghetti queen.William glanced at the hobo girl. She sat across from him, huddled in a clump. Her stench had gotten worse overnight, probably from the dampness. Another night like the last one, and he might snap and dunk her into that river just to clear the air.She saw him looking. Dark eyes regarded him with slight scorn.William leaned forward and pointed at the river. “I don’t know why you rolled in spaghetti sauce,” he said in a confidential voice. “I don’t really care. But that water over there won’t hurt you. Try washing it off.”She stuck her tongue out.“Maybe after you’re clean,” he said.Her eyes widened. She stared at him for a long moment. A little crazy spark lit up in her dark irises. She raised her finger, licked it, and rubbed some dirt off her forehead.Now what?The girl showed him her stained finger and reached toward him slowly, aiming for his face.“No,” William said. “Bad hobo.”The finger kept coming closer.”

“Pray as if all things depend on God, and work as if all things depend on you.”

“I’ve fallen in love with you. I love you even now when you sit before me with the eyes of a wolf. So take pity upon the fool I have become. I forgot it was only a bargain between us.”

“We’re more than common rock,” he murmured. “We’re pretty nigh indestructible when we’re in our stone forms.”I thought this over. “Then why didn’t they pick you up and throw you into the sea?”He sent me a dark look. “You’re a bloodthirsty lass, aren’t you?”

“Lips to lips, mouth to mouth,Comes the speaker of the shrouds,Suck in the spirit, speak the words,Let secrets of the dead be heard.”

“And your green eyes are the color of the hills- the color of my home.’ His voice dropped to a whisper. ‘Aye, there’s something about you, Lindsey Waters.”

“Suck on this, Edward.”

“My name’s Sean, Jem. I’m Sean.”

“The evidence of paranormal research shows that there is a part of our being that knows far more than the conscious mind. And the evidence of mystics through the ages suggests that there is a part of our being that knows even greater secrets than this.”

“That’s the last time I put you in charge of the tequila when we’re making margaritas”

“I may be heaven-sent, but I’m not perfect.”

“We do not remember days, Shemei, we remember moments, and the richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.”

“Recent studies have shown that approximately 40% of authors are manic depressive. The rest of us just drink.”

“Some ghosts or felt presences may simply be the essence of another living person projected outward while sleeping.”