If you want to experience love, then you have to be ready for pain. One doesn’t come without the other. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have to worry about losing you. If you want laughter, expect te...
If you give desperation any wiggle room, it will toy with you.
I'm sorry, my dead wife mouthed.
I remember one time I heard this English professor asking the class what the world's scariest noise is. Is it a man crying out in pain? A woman's scream of terror? A gunshot? A baby crying? And the pr...
I ordered a cheeseburger and a beer from a waitress who looked as though she wanted to be in one of those want-to-get-away? commercials. She called me hon. I love when a waitress calls me hon.
Her voice was polished with a hint of a New England-boarding-school accent that shouted refinement over geographic locale. I was trying not to stare. She saw that and smiled a little. I don't want to...
He just said the base did boring agriculture stuff. Counting cows and crops, that’s how he put it. What’s the second thing? The closing of the base. Right, when was that? Fifteen years ago, Kaufman sa...
Doctors kept stressing that mental disease was the same as physical disease. Telling someone who was clinically depressed, for example, to shake it off and get out of the house was tantamount to telli...
I wrote seven Myron Bolitar novels in a row, and I never want to write a Myron book where he just solves a crime. Every one of them I want to be personal, and I want him to grow and change. The proble...
You prefer macho he-men, Myron said. I understand. She snickered. Why does he keep looking at me like that? My guess? He’s probably checking out your ass. Good to know somebody is. Myron cleared his t...
But when in doubt, you might as well keep an open mind.
You can only be strong for so long.
Well-meaning friends ' often the worst kind ' handed me the usual clich+!s, and so I feel in a pretty good position to warn you: Just offer your deepest condolences. Don't tell me I'm young. Don't tel...
The sun was now in its death throes, bruising the sky a coiling purple and orange.
The hunchback sees the hump of others—never his own.
The Newark train station is about as romantic as a pile of hippo dung with head lice.
Survival is the thing. The mind will twist to survive. Anything can become normal.
Some people are conduits for misery.
Some men carry torches for old loves, and then some guys—not many, but some—get completely consumed by the torch’s flames. It makes them nothing but long-term trouble for the follow-ups.
Sex is for anyone; the aftermath is for lovers.