Think Twice (Myron Bolitar, #12)

by Harlan Coben

It would be grossly inadequate to call what Big Cyndi gave those she loved merely a “hug.” Big Cyndi’s embraces were all-encompassing, all-consuming, like your entire body was being wrapped up in damp attic insulation.

We are our mistakes. Sometimes they are the best part of us.

“Always take that second to appreciate art,” PT said. “Our lives have too much chaos in them as it is. It’s a reminder of why we do what we do.”

“How old is Hector now?” Win asked. “Nine, ten?” “He’s fifteen, Win.” Win considered that. “Nothing ages you faster than someone else’s child.”

All three of them favored a pinch of sarcasm in their voice, but none could deliver the full potpourri of sarcasm’s spices and herbs like Esperanza.