Any intelligent woman would have made a dignified retreat, but this was New Jersey, where dignity always runs a poor second to the pleasure of getting in someone's face.

I always know it's Sunday because I wake up feeling apologetic. That's one of the cool things about being a Catholic . . . it's a multifaceted experience. If you lose the faith, chances are you'll keep the guilt, so it isn't as if you've been skunked altogether.

I don't feel so good." Lula said. And she farted. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and did a full minute-long fart. "Excuse me." she said. I was horrified and impressed all at the same time. It was a record breaking fart. On my best day, I couldn't come near to farting like that.

That's one of the things I like about Mary Lou. She's willing to believe the worst about anyone.

The golden years are for pussies. We went straight to brass.

I ran three miles, staggered into the lobby, and took the elevator back to my apartment. No point to overdoing this exercise junk. --Stephanie Plum

I go to bars and restaurants, and I sit and I eavesdrop on people and I watch people in shopping centers and, you know, I read the newspapers and I talk to the Trenton cops, and I just get a lot of information that comes in that somehow turns into a book.