Quote
"No one with a happy childhood ever amounts to much in this world. They are so well adjusted, they never are driven to achieve anything."
"Except for cases that clearly involve a homicidal maniac, the police like to believe murders are committed by those we know and love, and most of the time theyre right--a chilling thought when you sit down to dinner with a family of five. All those potential killers passing their plates."

Sue Taylor Grafton was an American author of detective novels. She is best known as the author of the "alphabet series" featuring private investigator Kinsey Millhone in the fictional city of Santa Teresa, California. The daughter of detective novelist C. W. Grafton, she said the strongest influence on her crime novels was author Ross Macdonald. Before her success with this series, she wrote scree
"No one with a happy childhood ever amounts to much in this world. They are so well adjusted, they never are driven to achieve anything."
"I don’t want her to have a cat because she’ll end up talking baby talk to the cat. That’s the way it is, and how can a P.I. do that?"
"Sometimes the hardest part of my job is the incessant reminder of the fact we’re all trying so assiduously to ignore: we are here temporarily … life is only ours on loan."
"Our family histories are like fairy tales were told from a very early age. In the tale, were cast as hero or victim, as the infant rescued or abandoned, discounted or deified. From this we form an image of ourselves and our relationship to the world. Often its a story we act out over and over again, trying to make the ending come out right instead of the way it did."
"The wound is the place where the Light enters you."
"yes is a pleasant country... love is a deeper season than reason"
"true lovers in each happening of their hearts live longer than all which and every who"
"What concerns me fundamentaly is a meteoric burlesk melodrama, born of the immemorial adage love will find a way."
"Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flower Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God! God! sing, ye meadow-streams, with gladsome voice! Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God!"
"Unchanged within, to see all changed without, Is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt. Yet why at others Wanings shouldst thou fret? Then only mightst thou feel a just regret, Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light In selfish forethought of neglect and slight."