Am I to assume you would rather not have us as clients?"
 "Let me think about that for a nanosecond," Dickie said. "Yes! Last time you were in my office you tried to kill me."
 "That's an exaggeration. Maim you, yes. Kill you, probably not."


Are we fighting?" I asked Morelli. "No. Were discussing." "Are you sure?" "Am I yelling?" Morelli asked. "Is my face purple? Are the cords on my neck standing out? Am I waving my arms around?" "No." "The were not fighting.

With the exception of dessert, food is food.

This isn't just a job. This is a service profession. We uphold the law, babe." Ranger

I've finally reached a stage in my career where I can do what I want.

We were discussing a grisly double murder and Rodriguez was telling us all this in the same sort of conversational tone a person might use to pass on a favorite lasagna recipe. And I was responding with the same enthusiasm a new cook might show. I was simultaneously horrified and impressed with myself.

My Spanish is limited to burrito and taco.