Author of quotes: Laurel Hamilton. Page 2

We cannot think of revenge, Marshal Blake. We are the police. We're the good guys. Only criminals can afford revenge. We protect the law. Revenge outside the law.

Partly the pain, which there was supposed to be, suddenly surfaced. Pain and a thin line of anger that belongs to each of us.

No matter what was going on inside us, outside we represented the case. Perhaps, later will come the time for emotions. Sometimes continue to push away emotional reactions until they break free. It becomes another thing you just can't afford it.

Sunglasses may add comfort, but hide one of the easiest ways to get to the core of the interlocutor. People can lie in any part of his body, but the eyes never, because sometimes you see the truth in what you say of the eyes, and that they hide. You can make a lot of conclusions from what the person is trying to hide from you.

I wasn't scared or confused. I didn't feel anything inside, I was a huge, all-consuming emptiness, as if the silence that is spreading in my head when we press the trigger.

With friends, sometimes you need to go into the soul, and sometimes get a Fig and not to stick...

You cannot always blame yourself, Bradley. Like spilt milk: it is necessary to wipe and forget.

I really didn't care who gets the credit for solving the case. I just wanted to get it solved. I just never wanted more never seen such as this bathroom, this tub and its... contents. I used to think that helping the police out of a sense of justice, out of a desire to protect the innocent, maybe even a hero complex, but recently I began to understand that sometimes I want to solve the case from a much more selfish reasons. Never to appear on the scene is as vile as what I've seen recently.

But I don't know if there is enough love to save him. I believe in love, but I believe in evil. Neither love nor evil can't win everything, but more evil uses deception.

I wasn't going to shrink into a ball, to hide. And why am I always chasing love people who not only do I represent? There are many others that want me for who I am, a short, dark, bloody, full of metaphysical stuff. People who love me for who I am.

Mika didn't argue when I knew that was wrong, or knew I was right. Richard would. Richard always argues. You'd think if he will pretend to believe that the world is much better than he is, then this world will change. But it does not change. The world is what it is. And no anger, hatred and self-contempt, and blind stubbornness, nothing will.

If Richard will come back to me, it will not be forever. He'll be back just because can't help myself, but he too hates himself to love someone else.

Richard, like me, will never be ordinary life. Only I've accepted it, and he's still struggling. Struggling to become a man, to become ordinary, to not love me. At last he succeeded.

I allowed Richard to leave me. I knew that he was leaving, but sat on the floor and looked after him. I stood in his way. I believed that it was his choice and not hold anybody who does not want to be held. So fuck it all to hell. Don't go, Asher, I beg you, don't go. I love how the light Shine on your hair. I love the way you smile, when you forget to hide and do not want anyone to impress. I love your laugh. Love the sorrow in your voice, like the taste of rain. I love to see how you look at Jean-Claude for his walk when you think nobody sees you, because that's how I look at it. Love your eyes. Love your suffering. Love you.