That makes three suicides without logical explanations. Now, for people like Fitzhugh and the senator, with their kind of financial base, there’s counseling at the snap of a finger. Or in cases of terminal illness – physical or emotional – voluntary self-termination facilities. But they took themselves out in bloody and painful ways.
The frustration he felt was only with himself, for being so impossibly driven he might, at any moment, beg.
Listen, pal, I come and go as I please, so check your ego.
When she lay curled against him, her skin dewed from passion, there was still that small, cold place inside of her where the heat hadn’t quite reached.
But where do you go to get away from what’s always there?
There’s a difference between right and regs sometimes. That’s why regs can change, but right doesn’t.
Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord. – Romans 12:19.
You have the right to remain silent. You also have the right to put on pants before I cuff you and have you taken into Central.
The fear of the Time Out, Dallas. It can’t be overstated.
No, it’s personal. I said to him I’d never seen joy for me or pride in me shine in my mother’s eyes. But that’s not altogether true, because I’ve seen it in yours.
He couldn’t lead himself out of a room made of doors.
I never get to have the fun. I bet there’s hair and fiber in there, and I’ll be right on the scene.
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. – Shakespeare.
I mean, when certain beliefs and traditions survive for centuries, there’s a reason for it.” “Sure there is, human beings are, and always have been, gullible. And there are, and always have been, individuals who know how to exploit that gullibility.
She didn’t want Rufty to sit in the box, wanted more private than the lounge.
We don’t always do what’s right, what’s good. Not even for each other. But when it counts, down to the core of it, I believe we do exactly that. What’s right and good for each other.
When things change, the wise adjust.
You’re not just the center of my world, Eve.” He kissed her brow, her temples, her lips. “You’re the whole of it.
Thoughts, Lieutenant?” Summerset asked as she started up the stairs. “What? On the house? It’s better without the scary wallpaper and nightmare kitchen.” “A point of agreement. I’ll mark the calendar.” He sort of got her that time, Eve thought as she continued up. But she’d been thinking of home and work and not of giving him a nice little jab.
He didn’t say his first thought, always, was: Is she home? Is she safe?