Salander leaned back against the pillow and followed the conversation with a smile. She wondered why she, who had such difficulty talking about herself with people of flesh and blood, could blithely reveal her most intimate secrets to a bunch of completely unknown freaks on the Internet.

She had put on make-up in a colour scheme that indicated she might be colourblind.

You were difficult enough to catch,” Faste said. Salander gave him a long look, satisfied herself that he was an idiot, and decided that she would not waste too many seconds concerning herself with his existence.

Wennerström was devoting himself to fraud that was so extensive it was no longer merely criminal–it was business.

Her absence had felt like torture--almost a form of personal punishment. He had nobody to discuss his feelings with, and for the first time he realised with appalling clarity what a destructive hold she had over him.

Don't call me crazy.I'm a survivor. I do what I have to do to survive.

Keep in mind that I'm crazy, won't you?