“I will give you more pain than you can imagine. Your brains will leak out of your ears, and your bowels out of your ass. I will cause that to happen without leaving a mark, and every cop here will swear you died of natural causes.”

“Something your father wouldn't have told you, he began. Taking blood, it leaves a mark on you. No matter how it's done, or how it's justified, it leaves a mark that goes in deep. Be sure you're willing to wear that mark before you take the blood.”

“You think they've killed before?""I'd bet your ass on it""Why my ass?" Eyes slitted, Peabody jabbed a finger in the air. "Because it's bigger? Because it has more padding? That's hitting below the belt.""Your ass is below your belt. I'd bet mine, too, if it makes you feel better.”

“That Chippendale is a coffee table, Lieutenant, not a footstool.""How do you walk with that stick up your ass?" She left her feet where they were, propped comfortably on the table. "Does it hurt, or does it give you a nice little rush?""Your dinner guests," he said, curling his lip, "have arrived.""Thank you, Summerset." Roarke got to his feet. "We'll have the hors d'oeuvres in here." He held out a hand to Eve.She waited, deliberately, until Summerset had stepped out again before swinging her feet to the floor."In the interest of good fellowship," Roarke began as they started toward the foyer, "could you not mention the stick in Summerset's ass for the rest of the evening?""Okay. If he rags on me I'll just pull it out and beat him over the head with it.""That should be entertaining.”

“Eve: "She had big plans for me. Kind of a pet, I imagine. Like William. Her little trained dog. And with you dead, she figured I'd inherit all your goodies. You're not going to do that to me are you?"Roarke: "What, die?"Eve: "Leave me all this stuff."Roarke: "Only you would be annoyed by that.”

“Vending Machine: "This product has no known nutritional value and may cause irritability or wakefulness in some individuals. Please enjoy your selection and your day."Eve: "Up yours.”

“Eve: What is it about asking you Catholic questions that gets you all jumpy?Roarke: You'd be jumpy, too, if I asked you things that make you feel the hot breath of hell at your back.Eve: You're not going to hell.Roarke: Oh, and have you got some inside intel on that?Eve: You married a cop...you married me. I'm your goddamn salvation.”