“It's been almost twenty years, Joe." "Exactly. You weren't just my girlfriend, you know. You were my best friend, and I want to catch up. Oprah would say I need closure.”
“Just so you know, the muddier I get, the more intrusive my questions will be." "Just remember I get to ask one for every one I answer, and I'm a guy. Just imagine how intrusive my questions could be.”
“So how did a nice guy like you end up writing sick, twisted thrillers?" "What the hell kind of question is that?" "A legitimate one." "You called me sick and twisted." "No, I called your books sick and twisted.”
“How did we segue from my crisis to you worrying about whether you'll get any action later?" "Dirty face. Dirty thoughts. I'm a guy- it all ties together pretty naturally for me.”
“Joe withdrew a clenched fist from his jeans pocket and after giving her a highly dramatic rolling of the eyes, got down on one knee. "I didn't mean you had to hit the warp drive button." "You said this shit was romantic.”
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