Brett was damned good-looking. She wore a slipover jersey sweater and a tweed skirt, and her hair was brushed back like a boy's. She started all that. She was built with curves like the hull of a racing yacht, and you missed none of it with that wool jersey.

To be able to say: I loved this person, we had a hell of a nice time together, it's over but in a way it will never be over and I do know that I for sure loved this person, to be able to say that and mean it, that's rare…That's rare and valuable.

I wish I could see the glow from the lights.

I'll kick you in the face!

Robert Jordan knew that now his papers were being examined by the man who could not read.

This book is fiction, but there is always a chance that such a work of fiction may throw some light on what has been written as fact.

The hell with my arm. You lose an arm you lose an arm. There's worse things than lose an arm. You've got two arms and you've got two of something else. And a man's still a man with one arm or with one of those. The hell with it,' he says. . . .after a minute he says, 'I got those other two still.