Quotes About Intrigue

for the soapy, greenish-black stone with its golden or iridescent flecks and striations resembled nothing familiar to geology or mineralogy.

Honest, wholesome structures do not stare at travellers so slyly and hauntingly

humdrum lives breed wistful longings of the unknown...

All the objects—organic and inorganic alike—were totally beyond description or even comprehension. Gilman sometimes compared the inorganic masses to prisms, labyrinths, clusters of cubes and planes, and Cyclopean buildings; and the organic things struck him variously as groups of bubbles, octopi, centipedes, living Hindoo idols, and intricate Arabesques roused into a kind of ophidian animation.

was an exotic curiosity all the more endearing for

And love, who can say the way it winds.. like a serpent in the garden of our untroubled minds

The best stories are the open ones, those you don't quite understand.

do not know if he means to use that sword to help us or to prod us into the hands of our enemies. The Scotsman could well be one of those DeVeau hirelings." Guy shook

An hour before his world exploded like a ripe tomato under a stiletto heel, Myron bit into a fresh pastry that tasted suspiciously like urinal cake.

Diamonte shook his head again. He reached down and put his hand on his right boot. Myron had seen him do this before. He liked to sort of pet the boot. Myron had no idea why. Maybe he found the feel of snakeskin soothing. Reminiscent of the womb.

Another male patron skulked around the back like he was in the adult movie area at his local video store. Again

I turned to Otto. "Why the hell did you hit him like that?" Otto looked back at me with eyes that sent a chill straight through my heart. They were lifeless eyes, not the slightest hint of light behind them. It was as though I were looking into the eyes of an inanimate object—the eyes of an end table, maybe, or a cardboard box. From

He moved from shrub to shrub. Some of the shrubs were familiar from his last sojourn into these parts. He said hello to them, chatted, offered up his best cocktail-party banter. One shrub gave him a stock tip. Myron ignored it. He circled closer to the Coldren house, slowly, still careful not to be seen. He had no idea what he was going to do, but when he got close enough to see a light on in the den, an idea came to him. A

Esperanza said, "Some bottled blond with a bottled tan is down here to see you.

He called us." "Dominick Rochester?" "Yes." "When?" "Last night. He said he met with you." Met, Myron thought. Nice euphemism.

Ash had the gun in his gloved hand. The ski mask was in place. Ash had learned over the years that ski masks don't offer enough peripheral vision, so he'd already made the eye holes a little bigger. He stayed in his squat and waited. To his left, he could see Dee Dee had moved closer to the periphery. He frowned. She should know better and stay back. But that was Dee Dee.

According to Vada

The car following you," Win said, keeping his eyes on the young joggers, "is an unmarked police vehicle with two uniforms inside. They're parked in the library lot watching us through a telephoto lens." "You mean they're taking our picture right now?" "Probably," Win said. "How's my hair?" Win made an eh gesture with his hand. Myron

When Elizabeth Bradford fell to her death, my mother may have seen something that appeared innocuous at first. I don't know what. Something bothersome maybe but nothing to get excited about. She continues to work for these people, scrubbing their floors and toilets. And maybe one day she opens a drawer. Or a closet. And maybe she sees something that coupled with what she saw the day Elizabeth Bradford died leads her to conclude that it wasn't an accident after all." Win

way to nail Cozone. Her cell phone buzzed as

Gerard moved into the room. The man named Titus pinned him down with his eyes. Gerard sat. Another man, what one might call a hippie, entered the room. He wore a colorful dashiki, a knit cap, and pink-tinted glasses.

Business was brisk at Chang's. Maxine saw Myron enter and gestured with her head for him to come forward. Myron moved ahead of the line and followed her into the back. The smell of chemicals and lint was cloying. It felt like dust particles were clinging to his lungs. He was relieved when she opened the back door. Roger

Wait." Vic put a hand to his ear, as though straining to hear. He was a small man except for the enormous bowling-ball gut. His face might be called "ferretlike," if the ferret was really ugly. "What?

What about Gloria Katz and Susan Milano?" Myron asked. "Where are they?" Cole smiled without mirth or humor. Myron saw the missing teeth and wondered if they were part of the disguise or something more sinister. "I'll tell you about them another time," he said. Myron