Quotes from Leslie Meier

After all, moms were appreciated only on Mother's Day. That's why they invented it. So they could treat you like a household appliance the rest of the year.

It was the eternal conundrum. Time passed too slowly, and then it was over too quickly. Hurry up and die.

If looks could kill, she'd be a dead woman.

Lucy had no complaints about her dinner. Anything was fine with her as long as she didn't have to cook it.

The dead don't give up anything, but the living do.

Envy's a green-eyed monster that comes hissing hot from hell.

Maybe he was just a crazy guy who liked funerals." Phyllis was applying polish topcoat with all the care of Michelangelo painting the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. "Nobody goes to funerals for fun," said Lucy,

and she always came away with a sense of relief that she could leave. The place

I want that at my funeral," said Pam. "I want to be carried out on the shoulders of six stalwart young men. Preferably in loincloths.

She marched along, wondering how it could be that some people had to work their fingers to the bone and risk their lives in order to make a living and others could just sail around in the lap of luxury.

Lucy Stone wasn't usually a clock watcher. Time didn't pass slowly for her; it galloped ahead of her.

It's only natural," said Phyllis. "Lord Grantham certainly wasn't very excited about Matthew's newfangled ideas for the estate.

All we're after is fairness, a level playing field. It's not right for one percent to own forty-two percent of the wealth in this country. It's not right that half the population is living at or below the poverty line. This is the richest country in the world and kids are going hungry, families are losing their homes. It's time that people stood up for themselves and demanded fairness." "How

I think they call it EQ, emotional quotient. It's kind of like IQ, but it means you're able to sense shifts in

As she dressed that night, Lucy remembered Catherine's words: "If it's true, it isn't libel.

I've been to livelier funerals," grumbled Herb.

In fact, she realized when they finally found their table and sat down, every single woman at the banquet was dressed in some variation of back. Black silk, black chiffon, black with beads, black with rhinestones, short black cocktail dresses, black evening dresses, and even black pantsuits. All black. There was no way she was going to get lost in this crowd, not in her pink-and-orange poppy print

It's a small-town rule: Never speak ill of the dead until the estate has paid the outstanding bills.

Murder was apparently too common-place in the big city to attract much notice. Poor Luther, thought Lucy, as she headed back to the hotel. Even in death he was only a big fish in a small pond.

She was halfway through the revolving door when the thought hit her; she was the one who had seen Junior and Luther fighting before the banquet. She was the one had told Detective Sullivan. Overcome with guilt, she grabbed Ted's arm and faced him. "It's because of me," she said. "Junior was arrested because of me!

A girl had to do what a girl had to do and it looked as if this girl's immediate future included chicken Caesar salad, chocolate cake, and Cary Grant.

It's not a guideline—it's a deadline.

I'll be in the morgue." Good place for him, thought Lucy, as she booted up her computer. If only he could stay there permanently. With Bill. They could sit and congratulate themselves on issuing tough lines and demands and ultimatums while the women of the world conciliated and compromised and kept things going.

Some truths were too difficult to accept, so the mind manufactured excuses as a way of denying what it already knew.