Quotes About Mystery

You're a fascinating woman, Eve. Here we are, wet, naked, both of us half dead from a very memorable night, and still you watch me with very cool, very suspicious eyes. You're a suspicious character, Roarke.

As always, just the sight of him gave her a quick inner jolt. His face was like a painting, a depiction in perfect oils of some fallen angel. The sheer beauty of it, framed by all that rich black hair, was forever a surprise to her.

Her killer wrote a note on that stationary. A note. Now Renquist's eyebrows lifted. Well. That was rather arrogant of him, wasn't it?

People often do the incomprehensible. It's what makes them so fascinating.

Alone, Roarke took the gray fabric button from his pocket, the one he'd found on the floor of his limo. The one that had fallen from the jacket of that drab gray suit she'd worn the first time he'd seen her. Studying it, knowing he had no intention of giving it back to her, he felt like a fool.

Some men find the cool, disinterested, and understated attractive. Makes them think you're deep.

Cakes of rice are not a snack. I suspect them of evil deeds for this alone.

I've never understood the appeal of anything referred to as 'hash.

They were shadows in the dark, cocooned in its secrets, bathed in its silence, enspelled by each other.

As Eve strode down the bright white corridor of the dead, Peabody hustled beside her. Man, this place is always a little spooky, but this is beyond. You know how you half expect one of these bags to sit up and grab at you? No. Wait out here. If one of them makes a run for it, give me a call. I don't think that's particularly funny. And watching the still black bags warily, Peabody took her post at the door.

And there was nothing in his life he could remember fearing as much as he feared knocking on the bright blue door of that old stone house.

With Code Five, I'll have to do the door-to-door myself. Not a simple sex crime," she said with a sigh. "Whoever did it set it up. The antique weapon, the wounds themselves, almost ruler straight down the body, the lights, the pose. Who called it in, Feeney?

The dead aren't the only victims.

Golly, Peabody said under her breath, it's the great and powerful Oz.

Roarke wondered if she thought of how many more would be hers—victims and killers. And knew, as he knew her, she did.

I never get to have the fun. I bet there's hair and fiber in there, and I'll be right on the scene.

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. —Shakespeare

We have a Homicide, and a Code Five in number Eighteen-oh-three.

Murder, at least, Eve understood.

Thoughts, ideas, music, desires, poetry, anger, hate. People speak of the heart, Lieutenant, but it's the brain that holds all the magic and mystery of the human species. It elevates us, separates us, defines us as individuals. And the secrets of it—well, it's doubtful we'll ever know them all.

In a few weeks she wouldn't just be Eve Dallas, lieutenant, homicide. She'd be Roarke's wife. How she would manage to be both was more of a mystery to her than any case that had ever come across her desk.

Weren't they a pair? Roarke thought, two veteran cops who've waded through blood and madness. But put a bit of sex on the table between them, and they're as fidgety as virgins at an orgy.

building again," Eve continued. "Knows how to angle herself to keep her face off camera. We're going to find somebody who saw

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