Rob Thomas Quotes

Thank goodness for the U.S. Navy. I can at least put off telling Logan. The last thing I need is for my boyfriend to pick a fight with an international crime syndicate.

Who’s a big fierce monster dog? Who’s a bloodthirsty hound from Hell? It’s you. Yes it is.

As I took Allison to the airport for her flight into San Francisco and the rest of her life, I thought about how lucky her father and I were to have had her in our lives. My time with her was over, though I was sure we would stay in touch. I kept thinking I should be sad, but I felt content more than anything. Now, I’m not saying I won’t want to call her every day, and she’ll probably die without me, but why ruin something so perfect trying to stay together?

For one ridiculous moment she considered changing into something sexier — at least from the waist up, as that was all he’d see on his camera — but decided not to bother. Logan had fallen in love with her in striped T-shirts and jeans. There was no need to mess with a winning formula.

She already knew that he’d decided to leave — knew before he opened his mouth to speak. But for one last minute, she could pretend that he was hers to keep. For one last minute, she held him, and let him hold her.

I also drink Scotch. But I'm not picky. I'll take the victory Scotch, or the Scotch of defeat. Or the rotgut swill.

Look, this is helping me out quite a bit, but could you just get to the punishment part? We're at the end of World War Two in history, and I can't wait to find out who wins.

Their mutual misanthropy had sealed the deal.

She didn't want to be in their club. Didn't want to learn how to be apart from the one person she longed to see every day.

What do you think? More cheese? Less cheese? Different cheese?” Keith held up a measuring cup of shredded mozzarella and looked inquiringly at Veronica across the kitchen island. She was slicing tomatoes but paused mid chop to look up with one raised brow. “When is the answer ever less cheese?” “Fair point.” He dumped the entire cup into the mixing bowl and started to stir.

Honestly I’m glad. Cases where stupid people do stupid things are really more my forte. Like this guy.” He picked up a folder from the mess on his desk. “He updated his Facebook account from inside a house he was robbing. Classic Cliff McCormack material. I’ll leave the murderers to someone who knows what he’s doing.

Was it tacky to get a cake during a hostage crisis? What was the protocol? She pictured chocolate frosting with white lettering: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HOPE YOUR DAUGHTER ISN’T DEAD. But this year was her fiftieth, a year with a zero. Veronica had to do something. So on her way to the condo she’d swung by a bakery and picked up a small German chocolate cake. It was her mom’s favorite — or at least it had been, a decade ago.

In Vegas, the veneer of glamor was bright but thin. You didn't have to look that hard to see the darker realities that lurked beneath the surface.

Ah, the twin pillars of outrage journalism: slut shaming and victim blaming.

Sometimes lightning struck twice; sometimes, one person got more than their share of suffering.