I always carry around a spade, because I never know when I’ll have to dig my own grave—slowly. Give me coffee or give me death. Or sleep.

The shovel is bigger than the spoon, but it can never ever do the work the spoon does. They both look similar; they both have different sizes but one more thing not to forget is...

All right, you got that out of your system. Can I get back in the boat without you striking me again? Or should I stay out here enjoying the marine life?””Why don’t you swim around...

Charles, mate, you fret too much. I’m a grown man, I am, and I can blood my handle.””Handle your blood?” Bones offered dryly.Ian grinned. “Exactly.

As if Spade’s chivalry would allow him to do anything to a woman. The harshest punishment she could imagine him dishing out to Cat would be refusing to open a door for her.

I don’t lack for bed partners, so I don’t need to scrounge for unwilling scraps.-Spade

I don’t like to not call a spade a spade.