Being a detective isn't all about torture and murder and monsters. Sometimes it gets truly unpleasant...The fate of the world may depend on whether or not you can bring yourself to visit your relatives.

While my insides may be rotten, I still like a good reason to kill someone. It has to be either business, personal, or out of sheer boredom.

She's you, without your conscience, or your feelings. She's you without your humanity." "You're saying she's a mood swing?" He shrugged. "Or maybe you're her mood swing." "Don't even joke about that.

Have you killed anyone?” she asked quickly. “What? Did you miss what I said, about turning murder into an art form?” “But you haven’t actually killed anyone yet, have you? I read your file.” He glowered. “Technically, yeah, all right, maybe I haven’t

Her father sagged as relief spread through him. “I thought something awful was happening.” She frowned. “Something awful was happening. It could have got stuck in my hair.

By the time they got to Denholm Street, day had been beaten back and the night was soaking through the city.

Plans are invitation to disappointment.