Quote

The bad thing about living in a small town was that everything became a personal issue. The good thing about living in a small town was that everything became a personal issue. During times of trouble, the support system was massive.

Linda Howard

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Linda Howard
Age: 74
Born: 1950
Born: August 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
State of Alabama
Linda S. Howington
Thing
Issues
Good
System
Trouble
Massive
Small
Town
Support
Towns
Times
Issue
Living
Became
Everything
Personal

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The world was divided into two groups: those who showered at night, and those who showered in the morning.
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Life's too short to waste it on someone you can't trust. You should be able to depend on the man you love not to lie to you or cheat on you. If you have that as a base, you can work on the other stuff.
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Honey, the only experts in PMS are men. That's why men are so good at fighting wars they learned Escape and Evade at home.
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Was the period of happiness worth the unhappiness that followed a breakup? Most people seemed to think so, because they got on the love train time and time again.
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Death isn't peaceful it is just nothing. Everything is gone. No more sunrises, no more hopes, no more fears. Nothing.
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...We have seven people who knew the skewers were there: the wedding planner, the reception hall manager, the dressmaker, the florist, the veil-maker, the cake-maker, and the caterer. I haven't ruled out the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker, either.
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Are you making fun of my hero complex?' Yeah.
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I have a real low tolerance for parasites, and you're so close to the limit that I'm already reaching for the flea powder.
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He supposed he knew, rationally, that she wasn't the prettiest woman in the world, but if his eyes saw any imperfections, his heart didn't care.
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I’m Sam Donovan.” “I know who you are. Mrs. Kulavich told me. I’m Jaine Bright.” “I know. She told me. She even told me how you spell your name.” Now, how on earth had Mrs. Kulavich known that?
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Okay, let me get a pen. There were rustling noises. I can't find one. More noises. Okay,shoot. You found a pen? No, but I have a can of Cheez Whiz. I'll write your number on the counter with it, then find a pen and copy it. Jaine recited her number and listened to the spewing noise as Shelley Cheez-Whizzed it on her countertop.
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Women were always complications, bless their perverse little hearts.
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His mouth was hot and hungry, and he kissed the way no man should kiss and still be allowed to run free.
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If death turned out to be a lack of being rather than a lack of consciousness, well, then, that sucked.
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He needed a woman. Bad.
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Don’t kiss me,” she said warningly. “I don’t intend to,” he replied, smiling a little. “I don’t have my whip and chair with me.
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If you're looking for Mr. Perfect, you‟re going to spend your whole life being disappointed, because he doesn‟t exist. You have to get the best deal you can, but there will always be problems.
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He lifted the arm covering his eyes and turned his head to glare at her. I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you. What do you mean, trouble? She sat up, glaring back at him. I am not trouble! I'm a very nice person except when I have to deal with jerks! You're the worst kind of trouble, he snapped. You're marrying troubl
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Cows are the Devil's handmaidens.
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Do you know why men name their cocks? No, why? she asked, trying to stifle her laughter. So most of the major decisions in their lives won’t be made by a total stranger.
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