Quotes About Miami

I didn't run into racism until we moved to Nassau when I was ten and a half, but it was vastly different from the kind of horrendous oppression that black people in Miami were under when I moved there at 15. I found Florida an antihuman place.

I'm used to homebody, work-mode Rob. Snuggles and movies. Once the offseason hits, we definitely have our fun times in Miami or Vegas, and he is the life of the party.

You have in Vegas the most heterogeneous audience you're gonna get anywhere in the country. In Boston, Chicago, Miami, you know who goes to the theater. In Vegas, you have people who only see one theater show a year, and it's in Vegas.

Marlins Park is what I call my office in Miami, because I work for the Venezuelan Museum of Baseball and Hall of Fame. My job is to go to all the MLB stadiums and to talk to and collect articles from all the Venezuelan players in the big leagues and those Americans that played in Venezuela.

I took pride in being the best dressed monster in Dade County.

This was Miami, after all. People come home every day to find their TVs gone, their jewelry and electronics all taken away; their space violated, their possessions rifled, and their dog pregnant.

Everyone is so cheerful and happy," I said "This isn't Mister Rogers Neighborhood, Dex. It's Miami. Only the bad guys are happy." She looked at me without expression, a perfect cop stare. "How come you're not laughing and singing?" "Unkind, Deb. Very unkind. I've been good for months." She took a sip of water. "Uh-huh. And it's making you crazy.

Miami drivers have long ago take the simple chore of going from one place to another and turned it into a kind of high-speed, heavily armed game of high-stakes bumper cars.

in the best tradition of Miami watercraft, most of the other boaters seemed to be trying to kill me. I found that very relaxing. I was right at home. This is my country; these are my people.

I yanked my steering wheel hard, cutting off a BMW with a very loud horn. I extended my middle finger, for once driving like the Miami native I was, and accelerated over the causeway.

Peekaboo: Welcome to Miami

HERNANDO MEZA LIVED IN A SECTION OF CORAL Gables that was nice, but not too nice, and so, protected by its own mediocrity, it hadn't changed much over the last twenty years, unlike most of the rest of Miami.

Tragically, it was Vince Masuoka who finally answered that lame question. "Grasshopper," he said, shaking his head wisely, on the morning when he overheard me turning down Miami Hoy for the third time. "When temple bell rings, crane must fly.

I found myself pondering as I drove, which is never a great idea in Miami's rush-hour traffic, and at the intersection of Le Jeune I very nearly plowed into a Jaguar whose driver had made the perfectly reasonable decision to turn left from the center lane. I swerved around it at the last second, earning myself a loud and operatic chorus of horns and bad words in three languages. I supposed it served me right for criticizing Rita's driving. Somehow

It could well be that somewhere in Miami really knowledgeable people—druids, perhaps—were nodding their heads and murmuring, "Ahhh, Jupiter is in a retrograde moon of Saturn," and pouring another cup of herb tea while they lounged around in Birkenstocks. Or

But these same poor benighted pedophiles were required by the parole board to live within those same city limits. Because twenty-five hundred feet is, when you think about it, a relatively long distance, it turned out that there was only one place where these people could live that satisfied both requirements—underneath the Julia Tuttle Causeway, on a spoil island halfway between Miami and Miami Beach.

I started my car and put Chase out of my mind as I nosed out into the merry brutality of Friday-night traffic in Miami.

Every cop in the greater Miami area would be working each shift with extra diligence in hopes of becoming the Hero of the Day, the cop who caught the killer, and although all that extra watchfulness would make the streets temporarily a little safer for most of us, it would also make things a little too risky for a Dexter Dalliance. No

THERE IS SOMETHING STRANGE AND DISARMING about looking at a homicide scene in the bright daylight of the Miami sun. It makes the most grotesque killings look antiseptic, staged. Like you're in a new and daring section of Disney World. Dahmer Land. Come ride the refrigerator. Please hurl your lunch in the designated containers only.

First, it was entirely coincidental. This was Miami, after all. Random murders happen all the time, and they have to happen somewhere. The killers had simply chosen the handiest room, and that just happened to be mine. I thought about that for nearly a full second before concluding that it was nearly as likely that the sun would come up in the west, and just stay there for a few weeks.

The idea of a large number of vampires in Miami, whether actual or fake, was a little bit alarming—even if only for aesthetic reasons. I

I studied dance at a high school arts magnet program before moving on to Miami's New World School of the Arts, and from there, I went on to study at The Juilliard School.

I have my own studio down in Miami.

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