“What I really want is to sit next to someone on an L.L. bean blanket on the beach in the fall and drink coffee from the same mug. I don't want some rusty '73 Ford Pinto with a factory-defective gas tank that causes it to explode when its rear-ended in the parking lot of the supermarket. So why do I keep looking for Pintos?”

“I’m a bean counter. Oh, I’m not an accountant, but I did spill pinto beans on the counter.”

“Fine. Let Ranger get someone else. Trust me, you don't want to be out looking for a parking place on Sloane in the middle of the night.""I won't have to look for a parking place. Tank's picking me up.""Your working with a guy name Tank?""He's big.""Jesus", Morelli said. "I had to fall in love with a woman who works with a guy named Tank.""You love me?""Of course I love you. I just don't want to marry you.”

“I want a house with a garage, so someone from the government won’t try to park a tank in my living room.”

“What do I want? What kind of question is that? I want what everybody wants. I want someone who has my back. I want someone's name to put in the space after "in an emergecy please call." I want someone who will drink the other half of the bottle of wine so I don't. And someone to make it worth sitting down at an actual table to eat. I want someone who's dying to get home after a long day because I'm going to be there.”

“I wanted to sit there forever, drinking in bitter satisfaction, using someone else as a license. In the years that followed, I did a lot of that.”