“I tried my hand at a novel around college romance, but soon figured out I was no good at it.”

“I didn't try to hit him. I just tried to make my pitch and the ball went out of my hand.”

“Once I learned, I went online and ordered every romance novel I could find. They're fairy tales for grown-ups.”

“Why must a novel-writer be either a “realist” or a “romantist”? And, if the latter, why “romanticist” any more than “realisticist”? Why should a good novel not combine romance and reality in just proportions? Is there any reason to suppose that the one element must necessarily shut out the other?”

“So,” I said at last, staring at my hands. “How’s, uh, your car?”

“I left it out on the street. Figured it’ll be fine there while I’m gone.”

“Read history, works of truth, not novels and romances”

“I'm telling you, they have their hands around the neck of the republic. They are much farther ahead, we're just figuring it out. They have their hands around the neck of this republic and they are about to snap it, if we don't wake up.”

“I can't imagine a romance novel published today where the hero rapes the heroine and she falls in love with him.”

“Somehow, women’s romance novels are not titled He Stopped When I Said “No”. They are, though, titled Sweet Savage Love, in which the woman rejects the hand of her gentler lover who saves her from the rapist and marries the man who repeatedly and savagely rapes her. It is this “marry the rapist” theme that not only turned Sweet Savage Love into a best-seller but also into one of women’s most enduring romance novels.”

“Although I am not averse to wasting a few hours playing computer games, I have never tried my hand at Doom. Judging by sales figures and testimonials, playing the game has to be an infinitely preferable experience to watching this pathetic excuse for a movie.”