You're one third bad intentions,one third pure avarice,and one eighth sawdust.What's left,I'll credit,must be brains.

I'm not as reckless as I used to be. You know, when I was little.

Throwing blondes at Locke Lamora was not unlike throwing lettuce at sharks.

Stand aside, and try not to catch fire if I shed sparks of genius.

In the glass burrow beneath their feet, the flames began to rise. First the flames, and then the screams

What kind of knife is this?” Locke held a rounded buttering utensil up for Chains’ inspection. “It’s all wrong. You couldn’t kill anyone with this.

There are only three people in life you can never fool--pawnbrokers, whores, and your mother. Since your mother's dead, I've taken her place. Hence, I'm bullshit-proof.