Quotes from Robert Galbraith

He had almost fallen asleep on top of Elin last night, and counted it among the week's few small achievements that he had finished the job, at least.

quid and a bit of an effort … Out of his subconscious rose the names Mazankov and Krupov, and it was a second or two before he remembered

Personally, he was ready for a beer, but Robin had not been trained up to consider alcohol and bloodshed natural fellows and he felt a pint might reinforce her impression of his callousness.

she's happy to have a chat, but we haven't fixed up a time yet. And I called Janice," said Strike, "mainly because

If he were honest with himself, he'd rather still be at the office, speculating about the stabbings with Robin over a Chinese takeaway than heading towards Madeline's. Best, then, not

He supposed you didn't remain as slim as Madeline without eating sparingly, but a starvation diet wasn't really his style, even if he could stand to lose a bit of weight.

Strike read how Chiswell the corrupt capitalist had been murdered by the Russian mafia after failing to pay back interest on some seedy, illegal transaction, while Chiswell the defender of solid English values had been dispatched by vengeful Islamists after his attempts to resist the rise of sharia law.

she was tired of being taken for granted in ways Strike didn't recognize.

You have to break it, because if you don't, it might fade away. You've got to be in control. If you kill it, you don't have to watch it die

he'd wanted to keep a channel of communication open between himself and Charlotte, because he wanted to know she couldn't forget him, any more than he could forget her. It was time to cut that last, thin thread.

Looking like a rake with two plastic tangerines tied to it

What was there in that peculiar little cartoon that could so offend and enrage that the creators would be deemed worthy of assassination?

Love...was pain and grief sought, accepted, endured.

The press had had the story of the severed leg since six that morning. Wardle had kept his word to Strike and warned him ahead of time. The detective had been able to leave his attic flat in the small hours with enough clothes in his holdall for a few days' absence. He knew the press would soon be staking out the office, and not for the first time

of waiting for the soulmate who never arrived, of craving both freedom and love.

the truly deluded would happily discount such trivialities as DNA evidence, citing contamination, or conspiracy. They saw what they wanted to see, blind to inconvenient, implacable truth.

She thought of the day that Matthew had asked her out for the very first time and remembered walking home from school, her insides on fire with excitement and pride. She remembered Sarah Shadlock giggling, leaning against him in a pub in Bath, and Matthew frowning slightly and pulling away. She thought of Strike and Elin . . . what have they got to do with anything?

Anomie has to be someone there, with the quote on the window and the stolen drawing and everything. But you never wanted to believe me, that that place was bad news, because of her.

silkworm?" "Yeah, and you know what? I always thought they were like spiders spinning their webs, but you know how they get silk from the worms?" "Can't say I do." "They boil them," said Robin. "Boil them alive, so that they don't damage their cocoons by bursting out of them. It's the cocoons that are made of silk. Not very nice, really, is it?

There was shame in being single.

Im.' The monosyllable was heavy with contempt. ''E's a twat.' 'Is he?' 'Yeah, 'e is. Ask Kieran.' She gave the impression that she and Kieran stood together, sane, dispassionate observers of the idiots populating Lula's world.