Quotes from Harlan Coben

Esperanza's dark beauty brought on images of moonlit skies, night walks on the beach, olive trees in a gentle breeze. She wore hoop earrings. Her long black hair always had the perfect muss to it. Her sheer white blouse had been fitted by a benevolent deity; it may have been open a button too low but it was all working. The

Today I'm wearing a light-blue Savile Row hand-tailored suit, Lilly Pulitzer tie, Hermès pocket square in the breast pocket, and Bedfordshire bespoke shoes custom made by G.J. Cleverley's lead craftsman on Old Bond Street. I

Word about the shooting had somehow not yet made the papers, so most of the messages were mercifully client- rather than solace-related.

Times Square is an assault on every sense, and somehow that includes not only scent but taste. Everything is in motion and swirling and you want to give the entire square a giant Adderall. There

visitors. He

The boys ran and played with such wonderful abandonment. Adults could never play like that.

The shirts were buttoned low enough that their gray chest hair jutted out like steel wool.

Even here, out in the supposed sticks, the strip malls dominated. There were all the customary mega-stores—the Chef Central, the Home Depot, the Old Navy—the country uniting in bloated monotony. The

So are you the one who killed those cockwombles?" "No.

Create the problem—then monetize the solution.

The girl cupped her hands over her eyes and blinked. She was pretty enough, with blonde highlights that you can only find in youth or a bottle. "Hi." Loren

We as a society have many prejudices, but there are very few of our fellow citizens we stigmatize and judge less charitably than what we consider to be "large" women.

There was something more going on here, something darker and more insidious at work. She

Patrick—if it is indeed Patrick—is still on the ground gasping for air as I make my arrival. I stop, spread my arms, and offer them my most winning smile. The three thugs stare at me as though I am a museum piece that they can't comprehend. Melon Shirt takes one step toward me. "Who the fuck are you?" I am still smiling. "You should leave now." Melon

Grace hit the sidewalk. The weather was brisk. Autumn had shoved summer aside with a patented gust.

Myron heard footsteps coming up from behind him. He closed his eyes. It was as he expected. The footsteps came closer. When they stopped, Myron did not turn around. "You killed her," Myron said. "Yes." A block of ice melted in Myron's stomach. "Do you feel better now?" The killer's tone caressed the back of Myron's neck with a cold, bloodless hand. "The question is, Myron, do you?

Death is so close, always, a breath away

Hmm." Muse signaled for Clarence to take a seat. He did so. "So she goes way up to the Palisades Mall and then comes all the way back down to meet the lover, forgetting her kid who is getting skating lessons right near the mall." She looked at him. "Does sound weird." "You had to hear his voice, Chief. The husband's, I mean. He was so distraught." "I

Somewhere along the way, Adam had learned to not worry about what he couldn't control, to let go. This had been a healthy thing, this ability to compartmentalize. Now he wondered whether it was an ability to let go or simply to block. He

She was also dressed differently. The rest of the group, including Wiley Corval, had gone with the blue-blazer, khaki, loafer-sans-socks spirit, even if that wasn't exactly what they were wearing. Poor man's yacht club. Enid wore mom jeans, Velcro white sneakers, and a stretched-out cable-knit sweater that was a yellow usually found on a Ticonderoga pencil.

Things become clichés because they are apropos." "Breaks

Grace hit the sidewalk. The weather was brisk. Autumn had shoved summer aside with a patented gust. The leaves hadn't really started turning yet, but the air had that apple-cider quality to it.

He did it to put pressure on them. He wants to find Katie. He doesn't care about anything else. That's his strength. He doesn't mind taking hits. Big hits. Dom doesn't embarrass. He never feels shame. He's willing to lose or suffer to make you hurt and suffer more. That's the kind of man he is." They

All love stories," Maya's father had told her many years ago, "end in tragedy." Maya had shaken her head and said, "God, Dad, that's grim." "Yes, but think about it: You either fall out of love, or, if you're really one of the lucky ones, you live long enough to watch your soul mate die." Maya