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A villain always preferred luring the heroine to his lair.
Susan Elizabeth Phillips
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Susan Elizabeth Phillips
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: December 11
Novelist
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Preferred
Villain
Always
Luring
Lair
Heroine
Heroines
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Everybody’s afraid of something.
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You lit into me last night. You said what I did was stupid. - That's what my head said. But my heart... My stupid heart... Her voice broke. It was singing.
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Make-up? What happened? You look almost female. Thanks. You look almost straight.
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The question is… How did a girl like Annabelle manage to talk a man like you into joining our silly little family party?” Annabelle smiled sweetly. “I promised he could tie me up afterward and spank me.
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Just out of curiosity, sweetheart did you ever talk to your doctor about givin' you some tranquilizers?
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Writing is hard for everybody except fools.
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I love you, Meg. I want to marry you. I want to sleep with you every night, make love with you, have kids. I want to fight together and work together and—just be together. Now are you going to keep standing there, staring at me, or could you put me out of my misery and say you still love me, at least a little?
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He shook his head. The next time I hear a women going on about how neurotic men are, I'm going to remember this. You tell me you like my body, and what do I say? I say, thank you. Then I tell you I like yours and what do I hear? A long lists of grievances.
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Mummy’s coming home late tonight. It’ll be just we guys, so we can get drunk and watch porn.
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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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I always want to try to bring something fresh to every book. It's getting harder instead of easier. I feel like I work harder with each book. But I don't want it to show on the pages, that's for sure.
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Meg! I love you! I want to marry you! That's weird, she said without stopping. Only six weeks ago, you were telling me all about how Lucy broke your heart. I was wrong. Lucy broke my brain.
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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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Old radicals never changed. They just got law degrees and updated their bag of tricks.
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For a moment he could have sworn he smelled violets, which was very peculiar, since he had no idea what violets smelled like, except somehow he knew they smelled just like Lady Emma.
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So, Beav, tell me about yourself. I'm Blue. Sweetheart, if I had your dubious taste in men, I wouldn't be too happy, either. My name is Blue. Blue Bailey.
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When it's your fourth marriage, you tend to lose faith in superstitions.
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I'm not living in the shadows anymore. I want to walk in the sun. But I can't do that without you.
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Bobby Tom told me he’s not afraid of the Chargers’ defense. Bobby Tom’ll tell you he’s not afraid of nuclear war, so I wouldn’t put too much stock in his opinion.
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