Emma Jameson Quotes

Arthritis, he had long ago learned, could only be managed with two things: denial, and an absolute refusal to stop moving.

Yes. Mind you, sociopaths experience many of the same needs we all do," Hetheridge continued. "They attend school, maintain jobs. I believe they can even love, in the way little children love—a combination of wanting and demanding. But sociopaths have no conscience, no innate sense of responsibility toward others. They cannot believe other people have separate lives beyond the sociopath's own needs and expectations. Sociopaths are incapable of empathy, though the more intelligent ones are frequently able to fake it. And that's the key.

We tend to assume the secret conduct of others mirrors our own. That can make us blind to possibilities we consider verboten.

Clearly being an author drove otherwise normal people mad. Especially when combined with Facebook.

Your lip looks better, Kate. Um…." He lifted his hands as if to rake them through his hair, stopping just before he ruined a look that must have taken beaucoup product to achieve. "Hiya, Harvey. Sad about the guv, eh? I mean Lord… I mean, him. The fact is, before we begin…." "Are you off your meds? Sit down," Kate barked. "Yes, I appreciate the invitation, it's lovely to be here, but the fact is—" "Deepal!" A woman called from the front parlor. "I won't be hidden out here! It's undignified!" "… I brought my mum," Paul concluded. "When I told her I was popping by the guv's—I mean, Lord—I mean, his place, she wouldn't take no for an answer." "You're sacked," Tony said. "Too late. Mum," Paul said, turning to intercept Sharada in the doorway, "Of course you've met, um, er, Tony, and Kate. This is Mrs. Snell, who used to be his secretary, and that's Harvey, the manservant. Like Alfred to Batman." "Deepal, I write romances. I know what a manservant is." Evading her

We just have to pick a direction and hope for the best.

Of course I know her. I follow her on Twitter." "Does she follow you back?" "No, but last week she retweeted my retweet. We're like this." Sharada held up crossed fingers. "Now, we'll be late if we don't find that taxi stand. Can we get on?

as calm and fresh at 12:42 as she had upon arrival, stood next to Hughes, deep in what appeared to be whispered conversation with another man. Their faces were turned from the camera, making lip-reading impossible. "I don't know if she's bored and walks away to make a point," PC Gulls said. "Or if she and Hughes agreed ahead of time to part at a certain hour. There's no evidence, in the footage leading up to this, of anything amiss between them. Even after Thora Hughes's confrontation, Ms. Freemont seems perfectly serene. But look, off she goes, while Hughes keeps right on talking to Leo Makepeace, the hotel manager. And watch this. Hotel cameras follow her to the fifth floor. She goes to her room, engages the security devices, and doesn't emerge until the next day. Another elimination." "Unless there's a conspiracy!" someone called. "Well. Of course." PC Gulls grinned as if nothing thrilled her more than wide-ranging

If You Want Praise, Die. If You Want Blame, Marry.

A man without work is a man without purpose.

Some people consider themselves human beings put on this earth to have a spiritual experience. Other people say they're spiritual beings born to have a human experience. Me?" Riley smiled, green eyes flashing. "I'm a horse having a human experience.

Yet there she was, his mum, sobbing into a crumpled Kleenex like her heart would break. Clearly being an author drove otherwise normal people mad. Especially when combined with Facebook.

remembered. This man was paid to kill Penny and put me through agony. I might not need the cane forever, but my leg will never be the same. It was true. Yet his sympathy did not wane. He could want justice for Penny, feel sad and angry as he recalled his weeks of pain, and still view Freddy as an object of pity; a man who'd aspired to only the bare bones of life and been denied them all the

city

eleven

So low that on certain days, I have to force myself just to get out of bed in the morning. When our head does us in, it’s as real as appendicitis. And sometimes just as deadly.

behind

Oh, aye,” the constable sighed, his latent Scots accent breaking through. “The lasses get themselves up like prostitutes, probably because the lads mince about like poofters. Some generation. You catch the killer, you ask him why he stopped at two, all right?

Hetheridge, who’d rarely been required to work with female officers, had heard all the stories. To hear Commander Deaver tell it, one moment they were all sweetness and light, and the next they rose like cobras, spitting venom about “fairness” and “reciprocity” and accusing every man in sight of sexual harassment.

Hetheridge wandered slowly around the room. He kept to a tight path, taking no extra steps and, despite the blue gloves, touching nothing. Until CID finished with the scene,

Selfishness. Parts of my life are only for me. As long as I hang on to my selfish side, Maura can't destroy me. If I ever decided helping her was more important than helping me—or Henry, or Ritchie—I'd be lost. Maura would chew me up and spit me out, just like everyone else who's ever gotten close to her.

When people let you down, there were always books.

stiffing

put

birds here sing readily enough without me buying them sheet music.

in. Forgive the mess. Riley said my clutter

When I was lost, I found myself in books.

radio. As Hetheridge and Bhar moved closer, the constable angled his torch at the ground,

Now—we

Gran just smiled and said 'Sayonara.' Can you believe that? We spent months together, and all I got was a goodbye in Spanish?" Not

utterance of "our guests," there could be little doubt. His new in-laws, the Wakefields. What else could cause

Nothing for me to do but hold fast.

Hetheridge reflected that in his line of work, having children was unnecessary. Overseeing detectives was remarkably similar, with one exception: detectives never seemed to grow up. "Vera.

when it came to mind games, even between intellectually well-matched players, Hetheridge knew the amoral player would always have the advantage. "I

one of the attractions of detective work was surprising, even shocking insights into human nature.

place. His old-fashioned manservant, Harvey, always kept a hot meal waiting. After supper, he read in his study for an hour or so, then retired to bed, content to repeat the cycle the next morning. But somewhere in the vicinity of his sixtieth birthday, Tony's private life began to feel a little, well, too private. Tempting fate, he wished for a change. And something wonderful and terrible happened: his wish came true. "It's not fair!" a small boy shrieked as Tony entered the kitchen, knackered from another long day at the Yard. "I say." He caught the boy, Henry

him into the night. It was only a quarter past six, but pitch dark and bitterly cold as only mid-January could be. "What's all this?" "I'm leaving!" Henry, pudgy and short for almost nine years old, glared up at Tony, his round face scarlet with rage. "I'm going to Robbie's. His mum said I could sleep over anytime. They like me at Robbie's. They listen to me at Robbie's. Here, no one cares! I'll never get Kate's attention unless I kill someone." "Is that so?" After a day spent tackling phone calls, meetings, and policy revisions—the unglamorous bulk of police work at a chief superintendent's level—Tony could have done with

no point. It's hopeless!" Henry twisted in Tony's grip, wild enough to break free. Perhaps their weekly fencing sessions had begun paying dividends of strength and agility. That, or his fury was borne of true desperation, not just another boyish disappointment. "Henry." The word filled the kitchen, echoing off tiled floors, gleaming countertops, and a multitude of copper pots and pans, relics from his grandmother's day. How long had it been since a child threw a tantrum in Wellegrave House's preternaturally serene kitchen? So long Tony could practically

Hetheridge

Let there be spaces in your togetherness.” Wise words, and something they’d never had trouble with before.

To do any less would be inconsistent with my role as Goddess of Everything.