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I don't care how much evidence the state presented. I've never for one moment believed he murdered that waitress.
Susan Elizabeth Phillips
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Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Age: 75
Born: 1948
Born: December 11
Novelist
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Never
Believed
Evidence
State
Moment
Moments
Care
Waitress
States
Murdered
Much
Presented
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Now, now. Southern ladies don’t French-kiss and tell.
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[Bobby Tom] finally understood Gracie's function in his life. She was God's joke on him.
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Okay, so I'll admit I'm curious. Big deal. We both know what that leads to. Dead cat.
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When it's your fourth marriage, you tend to lose faith in superstitions.
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I'm just very, very slow. I would not make it as a journalist, I've got to tell you. I sweat bullets over every sentence, and sometimes, you know, a day will pass and I've written one paragraph, and I've been at the computer for four hours.
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Pride had kept her running when love had betrayed her.
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wouldn't you like to make sure all those millions you give to Uncle Sam went to schools and hospitals instead of nuclear warheads?' As a matter of fact, he would. Playgrounds for big kids, preschool programs to little ones, and mandatory LASIK surgery for NFL refs.
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It was a kiss made in lonely dreams. A kiss that took its time. A kiss that felt so right she couldn't remember all the reasons it was wrong.
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Did anybody tell you that you're a few french fries short of a Happy Meal?
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They've drunk everything in the house, including a pitcher of African violet plant food I'd just mixed up and was stupid enough to leave on the counter. Tremaine punched Eddie in the shoulder. I told you it tasted weird. Eddie shrugged. Tasted okay to me.
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Here’s the life lesson I’ve learned, Fifi: Some people are born to play the hero, and some are born to play the bad guy. Fighting your destiny only makes life harder than it needs to be. Besides, people remember the villain long after they’ve forgotten the hero.
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You try spending six months sitting at somebody's bedside, waiting for them to die and then tell me that the happy-ending love story isn't one of God's good gifts.
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She glared at him. You're doing it again. What? That thing that irritates me. Smiling? Yes. That.
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Why don't I just hand you my panties and be done with it.
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Cal ’s eyes reflected a weird combination of frenzy and fear as he twisted toward his father. “My God! She’s on her way to becoming the most famous physicist in the country, and she’sdumb as a post ! You arenot having your baby in this house! You’re having it at the county hospital!
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I guess we're oil and water. (Phoebe) I'd say we're more like gasoline and a blowtorch. (Dan)
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There’s no accounting for the mysteries of the human heart
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I finally figured out that not every crisis can be managed. As much as we want to keep ourselves safe, we can't protect ourselves from everything. If we want to embrace life, we also have to embrace chaos.
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There was something about a man with a shovel, and the sweat on his neck might as well have been chocolate sauce. It wasn't fair. Brains and brawns should be two separate categories, not bundled into one irresistible package. She needed to pull herself together before she went after him with a spoon. But where to start?
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The engine roared to life. He ran toward her. She shot our of her parking space. He rushed to the side of her car. Stop it, Kristy! You're overreacting! Let's talk about this. That was when she did the unthinkable. She rolled down the window, thrust out her hand, and gave Reverend Ethan Bonner the bird.
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