Honey, a man can't keep his gun in a cookie jar. It just isn't done.

Calories don’t count if they’re connected to a celebration. Everyone knows this.

Men!" "At least we don't fake it." "Listen, it was your uncle. And we were late, remember? So I made the sacrifice and got us there in time for dessert. You should be thanking me." Morelli's mouth was open slightly and his face was registering a mixture of astonished disbelief and wounded, pissed-off male pride. Okay, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice at the time, and I knew he shouldn't be thanking me, but give me a break here... this wasn't famine in Ethiopia

We don't usually write up accidents involving rabbits. - Joe Morelli

Since I write in first person and have no idea what goes on in men's heads.

You're a marshmallow. Soft and sweet and when you get heated up you go all gooey and delicious."-

My father hired you to protect me," Ahmed said, "not to go off chasing men." Grandma leaned forward, keeping her eye on the Taurus. "We think this guy killed Fred." "Who's Fred?" "My uncle," I told him. "He's married to Mabel." "Ah so you're avenging a murder in the family. This is a good thing.