“Anybody who doesn't know that politics is crime has got a few screws loose.”

“I am the son of a murdered woman—anybody who'd call my books misogynistic is, frankly, out of their fucking mind.”

“Where’s your sketch pad?” I asked.… “I gave that up,” Kay said. “I wasn’t very good, so I changed my major.”“To what?”“To pre-med, then psychology, then English lit, then history.”“I like a woman who knows what she wants.”Kay smiled. “So do I, but I don’t know any.”

“Bissell fingered his napkin. "I do, Mr. Boyd. And I know how generous Mr. Hoffa, Mr. Marcello and a few other Italian gentlemen have been to the Cause, and I know that you possess a certain amount of influence in the Kennedy camp. And as the President's chief Cuban-issue liaison, I also know that Fidel Castro and Communism are a good deal worse than the Mafia, although I wouldn't dream of asking you to intercede on our friends' behalf, because it might cost you credibility with your sacred Kennedys."Stanton dropped his soup spoon. Pete let a big breath out eeeasy.Boyd put out a big shit-eating grin. "I'm glad you feel that way, Mr. Bissell. Because if you did ask me, I'd have to tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“I got an alibi, just in case you think I did it. Tighter than a crab's ass, and that is air tight.”

“Dead people belong to the live people who claim them most obsessively.”

“I didn't care who we were. I required no consummation. I knew that whoever we were and whatever we had would never stop.”