Quotes from Karin Slaughter

That was the only thing Lydia cared about now—money: how much she could make, how much she could hold on to. Four marriages, a son, a grandson, and all she had to show for it were these cold little objects scattered around her pristine mansion.

For some reason, he still felt (the same), like (incident) had happened to another (name), his mind going there while his body stayed on the outside, not aging, waiting for him to come back and claim it.

Belle Isle Andy hadn't had a drink since she'd returned home. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to break the streak. Still, she took a cup and sat cross-legged on the floor so that her dad could sit in the chair

Maybe that's why Claire had perfected the art of invisibility. It was a form of self-preservation. You couldn't resent what you could not see. She was so quiet, but she noticed everything. Her eyes tracked the world like it was a book written in a language she could not understand. There was nothing timorous about her, but you got the feeling that she always had one foot out the door. If the situation got too hard, or too intense, she would simply disappear.

Yes." Claire was tired of his questions, which were made even more grating by his flat, midwestern accent.

Trust in the Lord to look over her. 'Lean not into thine own understanding.' 

John picked up a glass vase w/ flowers, dropping them on the floor). I'm going to call the police. (Aunt Lydia) Better duck first. (John)

Charlie's affable countenance stood in direct opposition to their mother's line. Her face, even with the bruises, was clearly still beautiful. She had always been so clever in the way that made people laugh rather than recoil. Relentlessly happy, Gamma had said. The kind of person people just like.

the luxury vacations had come as a personal affront to a woman who had survived the Great Depression, a world war, the death of a husband, the loss of two children, and countless other hardships. Claire

I want you to know what it's like to fall in love with somebody, to stay awake at night thinking you're going to die if you don't have them. All he could say was, I've stayed awake plenty of nights thinking about you. Worrying about me, she corrected. I'm not an old pair of shoes you can wear for the rest of your life just because they're comfortable.

Which is the best gift I ever gave my daughter.

The cliffhanger-change-of-subject was one of their well-worn paths to truce.

sick of floating between disaster points like an amoeba inside a petri dish.

She wanted to talk to the stranger who had kidnapped her son, to beg him to give her her Johnny back. She knew her baby was in there somewhere, and she would not give up.

It shouldn't have been surprising that Andrew lived in what looked like a serial killer's murder mansion.

The addict's credo: It's always somebody else's fault.

Claire asked, "Do you think I should call Captain Mayhew?" "For what?" Lydia couldn't keep the alarm out of her voice. The abrupt change in subject slapped her like a cold wind. "He lied to you about the movies. He said they were fake.

Nolan slapped his palms down on the table. "Ya know, Claire, you should really start answering my questions." "Why?" "Because I'm with the FBI. My side always wins." "You keep saying that, but I do not think those words mean what you think they mean." He nodded appreciatively. "Rockin' a little Inigo Montoya. I like it.

out by opioids or willful denial. It was like her emotional maturation had stopped the second she'd swallowed that first Oxycontin.

She's quiet. She hates confrontation. She'll walk halfway around the world to avoid an argument.

As much as I want to make it easier for you, I know that it'll never take unless you do it all on your own.

We think they're real." Lydia tried to play devil's advocate again. "We think that girl looked like Anna Kilpatrick. We think that she was mutilated in the same way, based on what her mother said and did during a press conference. But are we one hundred percent certain? Or are we just talking ourselves into it?" "Confirmation bias." Claire scowled at her own words. "What's the downside of calling Mayhew?

More time passed, the clock ticking forward when she longed for it to go back

Claire?" Claire blinked open her eyes. She looked up at her mother, wondering why their faces were so close. "You fainted." "I didn't," Claire argued, though evidence pointed to the contrary. She was lying on her back in her own driveway. The policewoman was standing over her. Claire tried in vain to think of an insect the woman resembled, but honestly, she just looked overworked and tired.