Quotes from Robert Galbraith

I have forged me in sevenfold heats A shield from foes and lovers, And no one knows the heart that beats Beneath the shield that covers.

Just for a moment, as he pulled himself back inside the Land Rover, Strike wondered where he'd be if he lived to eighty, and who'd be there with him.

She'd washed her hands in the bathroom, but they were still damp, because she'd been in such a hurry to get back to Strike.

Women were so petty, mean, dirty and small. Sulky bitches, the lot of them, expecting men to keep them happy. Only when they lay dead and empty in front of you did they become purified, mysterious and even wonderful.

To her own frustration, the exhausted Robin could not remember the name of the young girl who had written to Strike, asking for advice on cutting off her leg, but she thought it had been Kylie or something similar. Scrolling slowly down the most densely populated support site she had found, she kept an eye out for usernames that might in

A woman's severed leg had been crammed sideways in the box, the toes of the foot bent back to fit.

Alcohol buoyed you up and it washed your eyes clean.

Are you all right, Robin?' 'Yes, I promise I am.' She hesitated, then said, almost defiantly, 'Cormoran's been great.

blundered straight into the table nest: the

Fuck, you'd be fantastic. What a fucking ad that would be: I could put you in a tiara. No, but it's funny you should say that, because… Look, it was already in the pipeline, but I'm worried how you're going to take it… It's Charlotte Campbell.

Unhappy is he whose fame makes his misfortunes famous.

Nillness, that was where Lula Landry had gone, and where all of them, he and Rochelle included, were headed. Sometimes illness turned slowly to nillness, as was happening to Bristow's mother…sometimes nillness rose to meet you out of nowhere, like a concrete road slamming your skull apart.

Emma Watson vestida de blanco en la portada de Vogue («Número dedicado a las superestrellas»);

Put them through, please," said Strike.

Well, it's true, isn't it?" said Douthwaite, displaying unvarnished anger for the first time. "And I'm allowed to tell the truth about my own bloody life, aren't I?

Well of blackness, all defiling, Full of flattery and reviling, Ah, what mischief hast thou wrought Out of what was airy thought, What beginnings and what ends, Making and dividing friends! Mary Elizabeth Coleridge The Contents of an Ink Bottle

Love never comes but at love's call, And pity asks for him in vain; Because I cannot give you all, You give me nothing back again.

For in every ill-turn of fortune the most unhappy sort of unfortunate man is the one who has been happy. Boethius, De Consolatione Philosophiae

D'you mind?' asked Satchwell, as they drew level with Picturesque Art Supplies, and without waiting for an answer he led her into the shop where, as he selected brushes and oils, he talked with airy self-importance of modern trends

I know not what can ease my pains, Nor what it is I wish; The passion at my heart-strings strains Like a tiger in a leash.

Edinburgh House. He had heard that in its industrial heyday, Corby had had

I've only got one leg." "Don't be silly…" "I'm not being silly…it got blown off in Afghanistan." "Poor baby…" she whispered. "I'll rub it better." "Yeah—that's not my leg…It's helping, though…

The only other funeral she'd attended had been four years previously, when she and Strike had attended the cremation of a murdered girl in the course of their first murder investigation,

Cuando sabemos cómo ha sido su vida, lo entendemos mejor. Es una lástima que, muchas veces, no lo sepamos hasta que ya es demasiado tarde.