Gentlemen, the waiter said. It looks like we are in need of more essential vitamins. Haller picked up his empty glass and offered it. We definitely are, he said. We definitely are.
Goodbye The Late Show Two Kinds of Truth Nonfiction Crime Beat Ebooks Suicide Run Angle of Investigation Mulholland Dive The Safe Man Switchblade
Harry was not a big man. He stood a few inches short of six feet and was built lean. The newspapers, when they described him, called him wiry. Beneath the jumpsuit his muscles were like nylon cords, s...
He believed that war brought out the true character in a person, good or bad. He had no sympathy for Banks or the others.
He defined good company not by the conversation but by the lack of it. When there was no need to talk to feel comfortable, that was the right company.
He knew that in his internal universe, there was a mission etched in a secret language, like drawings on the wall of an ancient cave, that gave him his direction and meaning. It could not be altered a...
He knew that passion was a key element in any investigation. Passion was the fuel that kept his fire burning. So he purposely sought the personal connection or, short of that, the personal outrage in...
He knew that you didn’t win justice by carrying a sign or a cardboard coffin. You earned it by being on the side of the righteous, by being unswayed from that
He knew there were two kinds of truth in this world. The truth that was the unalterable bedrock of one's life and mission. And the other, malleable truth of politicians, charlatans, corrupt lawyers, a...
He loved the city most at night. The night hid many of the sorrows. It silenced the city yet brought deep undercurrents to the surface. It was in this dark slipstream that he believed he moved most fr...
Hollywood Boulevard had been victimized by a burglar three times in two years. The criminal methods of each break-in were similar and so it was suspected by the Los Angeles Police Department that the...
Hollywood was always best viewed at night. It could only hold its mystique in darkness. In sunlight the curtain comes up and the intrigue is gone, replaced by a sense of hidden danger. It was a place...
I felt sympathy for her but not too much. Idealism dies hard with everybody.
I guess. I don’t remember his name but it
I once read a book about a reporter written by a reporter who described the life as always running in front of a thresher. I thought it was the most accurate description I’d read.
I read once in a book that it doesn’t matter if you’re lying beneath a marble tombstone on a hill or at the bottom of an oil sump, when you’re dead you’re dead.
I really enjoy mysteries, well-written fiction novels, historical novels, and the occasional vampire, wolf, human triangle as long as it's real
I told him through the door that he could take his job and shove it up his ass. 'Course, a week later I had to ask him to pull it out of his ass and give it back to me.
I was simply in love with my daughter and how she viewed her world. The literal way in which she took it all in and took it on. I knew it wouldn’t last long and so I treasured every moment I saw and h...
If you go into darkness, the darkness goes into you. You then have to decide what to do with it. How to keep yourself safe from it. How to keep it from hollowing you out.
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