Harry Dolan

“Come on," I said. "You think you're going to ask the wrong question and--what?--the Spencers are going to make you disappear?""I can't rule it out," she said."Actually, I think you can.""We'll see. I'll call you after, let you know how it goes. If you don't hear from me, well, you do what you think is right. If I disappear, maybe you can find me."Her voice had turned careless and light, but I thought I could still hear an undertone of gravity in it."If you can't find me," she said, "I wouldn't mind being avenged.(p159)”

“I almost let it go. I think it was the yellow dress. It made me want to give her the benefit of the doubt. What can you say about a woman who wears a yellow dress to break into an office at night? How bad can her intentions be?Still, I was reasonably certain she wasn't telling the truth. Not that it bothered me. Not really. I watched her sitting there, bent slightly forward, the palm of her right hand open in her lap, her left hand rubbing her shoulder. Lips curled in a smile. Innocent eyes looking back at me. It was like being lied to by a basket of kittens.(p134)”

“Ornate language tended to unsettle him. Passages from nineteenth-century novels might glow like hot coals or squirm like heaps of snakes. In fact, he tried not to read anything written before the First World War. Hemingway made a good cutoff point. Hemingway's sentences were a nice deep blue, and they mostly held still, like stalks of wheat on a windless day.(p18)”