Quotes from Julia Spencer-Fleming

If Carl Hiaasen and Donald Westlake had a literary love child, he would be Timothy Hallinan.

Don't be afraid or embarrassed to reach out to God the Comforter if you feel the urge. You can always go back to being an agnostic after Emil is well. I won't tell on you.

Dr. Underkirk gave her his kind-and-understanding look. ... "Obviously, it's entirely up to what you and your husband think is best. But—and this is as a dad as well as a doctor—I subscribe to the airplane emergency rule in life." "Um . . . always sight your horizon before attempting a powerless landing?" He laughed. "No. Always secure your oxygen mask first before attending to your child.

Margy] pressed her fingers to her lips in thought. "You know, some of the folks up in Cossayuharie are bound to remember what happened back then." "Oh, yeah. I'm sure there are plenty of geezers left in Millers Kill who still have opinions about it, too." She shot [Russ] a look. "Watch it, junior. You're practically a geezer yourself these days.

Your mother swears you were sleeping through the night by your second month, but she was feeding you some god-awful concoction of Karo syrup and condensed milk. That's got to be enough calories to stun an ox, let alone an eight-week-old." "I've seen pictures. I looked like a prize porker headed for the Washington County Fair.

What are you doing here?" Aberforth arched one overgrown eyebrow. "And to think Virginia is said to be the cradle of manners in this country." "I'm a New Yorker now. I'm practicing being rude.

I don't know why you've been such a grouchy old bastard lately, but it's going to stop." [Linda] threw open the refrigerator and pulled out an insulated lunchbox. "Here. I made you a lunch. Take your pretty new gun and go shoot something.

Jack made a face. "But can you imagine what it's like when you're six years old and the teacher says 'Liddle, John' at roll call? It took me years to get past the Robin Hood jokes.

Russ told Harlene to patch Mark through to Clare's if and when he turned up anything. "I'd love to know how you managed to work Reverend Fergusson into this one," Harlene said. "Reverend Fergusson manages to work herself into these things all on her own," he said. "She doesn't need any pushing from me.

Flatlanders," Huggins said. "That's the third group so far tonight. Nine times out of ten, when we're called for search and rescue, it's one of them. I don't go down to the city and get lost and make them come looking for me. I don't see why they can't return the favor." He looked at Clare. "You're from away, too, aren't you?

Never mind. Just wondering when Lycra became the national fabric." On the other hand, he thought, his attention riveted by one woman bending way over to retie her laces, there was something to be said for Lycra. He hadn't seen that much of Linda until after they were married.

Clare}: "I am a very safe driver. And you've never had me drive you anywhere, so you can't say otherwise. Can you?" "I've let you drive me crazy," [Russ] said. The second it was out of his mouth, he felt the tips of his ears go red. God! What an asinine thing to say!

I'm calling you from the booking room. There are about a dozen cops and guards here, and every one of 'em knows I arrested my own mother for disorderly conduct. You know what she kept calling me in front of the bondsman?" [Russ] dropped his voice further. " 'Sweetie!' I'm never gonna live this down.

You may have tangible wealth untold; Casketes of jewels and coffers of gold, Richer than I you can never be— I had a Mother who read to me. —STRICKLAND GILLIAN

He tells them he and his wife are keeping the baby, because it's the last link to their little girl or some cowpuckie like that.

What has been seen cannot be unseen

I'm not. Certain. About lots of things. I just know where I belong.

Can you tell me what happened, um..." What was he supposed to call her? "Mother?" "I go by Reverend, Chief. Ms. is fine, too." "Oh. Sorry. I never met a woman priest before." "We're just like the men priests, except we're willing to pull over and ask directions.

You gonna be okay with that idiot car of yours? ..." "I've got AAA. They'll be here. Eventually." ... "Well, if they don't show, give the station a call and I'll drive over and jump you." There was a sort of strangled non-noise. "Jump your car. Jump-start it. The cruisers have incredible batteries." She started laughing. "Is that a Freudian slip, or are you just happy to see me?

You know it's a bad sign when the theme song from Titanic describes your relationship.

He stomped away like a pint-sized Godzilla looking for Tokyo.

It never ceases to amaze me how many folks jump right over "I'll try" to "I can't.

Maybe they were back to not talking. That's what she missed the most: talking. Serious, silly, bone-deep, flippant, all their words and thoughts like gifts to each other, the only gifts they, with their hobbled hearts, could give.

Give them wisdom and devotion in the ordering of their common life, that each may be to the other a strength in need, a counselor in perplexity, a comfort in sorrow, and a companion in joy.