Well, at least I’m not a stubborn, button-pushing, Prius-driving, chip-on-your-shoulder-holding, ‘stay-at-home-mom’-is-the-eighth-dirty-word-thinking feminazi!

Nefarious. This is what we get when we hire a Yale boy.” “You missed sacrosanct earlier. And taciturn and glowering,” Jack said. “What’s glowering?” “Me, apparently.” Wilkins pointed. “Now that has to be a joke.” He turned to Davis. “You heard that, right?” Davis didn’t answer him, having spun his chair around to type something at his computer. “Let’s see what Google says… Ah – here it is. ‘Glowering: dark; showing a brooding ill humor.

And as for you Agent Pallas – man-to-man, if you ever insult my girl on national television again, I’ll…” he stopped. Everyone in the room waited, hanging. Jack raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” Collin turned to Cameron with a look of astonishment. “I’ve got nothing. I had this whole exit speech going and I was gonna end with some big macho threat but when I got there, it was like – bleh – nothing. That’s a pisser.” He appeared disgusted with himself, then shrugged it off. “Oh well. Catch you guys later.” He strode out without a second glance.

Some jobs required a certain level of detachment; a turning off of emotions in order to do the things that needed to be done.

The mighty have such simple weaknesses. I like to think it’s God’s way of keeping things fair.

Jack turned to Cameron. "Do you just line them up, waiting to yell at me, on the off chance I'll stop by?

Now anyone who has ever been on a blind date is well familiar with “The Moment”—that moment where you first walk into the bar or restaurant or coffee shop and scan the crowd and suddenly your heart stops and you say to yourself: oh, please—let it be him.