Quotes from Harlan Coben

Someone parked two spots away from the red Buick. The car door opened, and a pole dancer got out. Yes, Maya knew her occupation. Long blond hair, shorts that barely covered half a cheek, a boob job that lifted them high enough to double as earrings—you didn't need the pole dancing equivalent of gaydar to see that this woman was either a pole dancer or a sixteen-year-old boy's fantasy come to life. When

Mike took the stairs two at a time. He felt a small pang in his knee, an old injury from his hockey days. He'd had it operated on a few months ago by his friend, an orthopedic surgeon named David Gold. He told David that he didn't want to give up hockey and asked him if playing had caused the long-term damage. David gave him a prescription for Percocet and replied: "I don't get a lot of ex-chess players here—you tell me." He

Loyalty is too often used as a replacement for morality or ethics

Watch out for people who belong in your past. Don't let 'em back in your life." When she Googled the lyrics on her phone, it all came flooding back to her. The song was "Demon Lover" by Michael Smith.

What are you doing?" Grace had asked him. "Gangsta poses. Yo, whatchya think?" "That I should get you seizure medication.

Loren held up her identification. "I'm Investigator Loren Muse from the Essex County prosecutor's office. I'd like a moment of your time." Marsha Hunter blinked, confused. "What's this about?" Loren tried a disarming smile. "Could I come in a moment?" "Oh, yes. Of course." She

Esperanza left. Win got up and gave Myron the chair. He stood on Myron's right, arms crossed, totally at ease. Green and Peck fidgeted. Myron turned to Eric Ford. "I don't think we've met." "But you know who I am," Ford said. He had one of those smooth soft-rock-DJ voices. "Yes." "And I know who you are," he said. "So what would be the point?" Oookay. Myron glanced back at Win. Win shrugged. Ford

They got back to the house late. Myron's father was feigning sleep in the recliner. Some habits die hard. Myron woke him up. He startled to consciousness. Pacino never overacted his much.

When you have a child, you are never number one again. Someone is more important than you. It changes your worldview. It has to.

Love blinds, yes, bit not nearly as much as wanting to be loved.

Good point. But I still go with the Sherlock Holmes axiom." "What's that?" "I'm paraphrasing, but basically Sherlock warned that you should never theorize before you have the facts because then you twist the facts to suit the theory instead of twisting the theory to suit the facts." Brandon

Think schoolyard rules. The bully hits someone. Even if the teacher is told, even if the teacher punishes the bully, the bully should expect someone to hit back.

Death teaches you that. You would give anything, forgive anything, for just one more second. . . .

I thought you right-wing NRA guys were against premarital sex." "No, no, we just preach that so we can clear the playing fields for ourselves." She

you have to be ready for pain. One doesn't come without the other. If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have to worry about losing you.

key fob. You enter through the door and take the steps down a level to an underground passage. The passage leads to an elevator under a high-rise on Forty-Ninth Street near Madison Avenue. The elevator only stops on the eighth floor. At this point it takes an eye scan. If your eye doesn't

Are you good with computers, Mr. Greene?" "Simon. And no.

Sure, he had left some parts out—how they had offered to pay the Rinskys more than the house was worth, for example—but this wasn't about being balanced. Attorneys take sides. The other side, if and when they responded, would give their spin. You were supposed to be biased. That was how the system worked.

Maura calling her?" I shrug.

She rose. Lindsey was pretty in a way that only the young are, with that enthusiasm and smile that belong exclusively to the innocent or the cult recruiter.

He straightened out his car and shifted into drive. His foot pressed down upon the pedal. The speedometer climbed. Myron's face twisted into a mask of incognizant fury. Tears sheeted down his cheeks but no sound came with them. He drove without really seeing. When

The pretty blond girl said, "Good evening, Mr. Sutton!" They were both clean-cut and smiling and neatly dressed, and for some reason, a reason Harry couldn't put his finger on—a reason that he'd soon learn was primitive and instinctive and absolutely correct—Harry felt more fear than he'd ever felt in his life.

Before leaving the hospital, Myron played lawyer and warned Loren Muse not to speak to his client Lex Ryder without legal counsel. She responded that he should be fruitful and multiply, but not in those exact words. Win and Esperanza arrived. Win filled him in on his prison encounter with Frank Ache. Myron wasn't sure what to make of it. "Perhaps

If you judge the world by Facebook, you wonder why so many people take Prozac.