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San Francisco Tra...
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Normal Rules Don'...
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Vermilion Drift
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by William Kent Krueger (Goodreads Author)
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See all 59 books that CMF is reading…
Book cover for The Impossible Fortune (Thursday Murder Club, #5)
“What does he do, this guy?” asks Donna. “Cold storage,” says Elizabeth. “Like fridge-freezers?” “Of course not like fridge-freezers,” says Elizabeth. “Then what?” “Storage,” says Elizabeth. “A storage system but an unusual one. ...more
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“Had she really understood then that those were the best of times? That she was in heaven? She thinks she did understand, yes. Understood she had been given a great gift. Doing the crossword in a train carriage, Stephen with a can of beer ("I will only drink beer on trains, nowhere else, don't ask me why"), glasses halfway down his nose, reading out clues. The real secret was that when they looked at each other, they each thought they had the better deal.”
Richard Osman, The Last Devil to Die

Ellis Peters
“He said he had it against Helmut Schauffler that he was the living, walking, detestable proof of a war won at considerable personal cost by one set of men, and wantonly thrown away by others,”
Ellis Peters, Fallen Into the Pit

P.G. Wodehouse
“Between an egg that is fried and an egg that is cremated there is a wide and substantial difference.”
P.G. Wodehouse, Meet Mr. Mulliner

P.G. Wodehouse
“I have no doubt that you could have flung bricks by the hour in England's most densely populated districts without endangering the safety of a single girl capable of becoming Mrs. Augustus Fink-Nottle without an anaesthetic.”
P.G. Wodehouse, Right Ho, Jeeves

“Dear Stephen,’ he begins. ‘This is a difficult letter to write, but I know it will be a great deal more difficult to read. I will come straight to it. I believe you are in the early stages of dementia, possibly Alzheimer’s.’ Elizabeth can hear her heart beating through her chest. Who on earth has chosen to shatter their privacy this way? Who even knows? Her friends? Has one of them written? They wouldn’t dare, not without asking. Not Ibrahim, surely? He might dare. ‘I am not an expert, but it is something I have been looking into. You are forgetting things, and you are getting confused. I know full well what you will say – “But I’ve always forgotten things. I’ve always been confused!” – and you are right, of course, but this, Stephen, is of a different order. Something is not right with you, and everything I read points in just one direction.’ ‘Stephen,’ says Elizabeth, but he gently gestures for hush. ‘You must also know that dementia points in just one direction. Once you start to descend the slope, and please believe me when I say you have started, there is no return. There may be footholds here and there, there may be ledges on which to rest, and the view may still be beautiful from time to time, but you will not clamber back up.’ ‘Stephen, who wrote you this letter?’ Elizabeth asks. Stephen holds up a finger, asking her to be patient a few moments more. Elizabeth’s fury is decreasing. The letter is something she should have written to him herself. This should not have been left to a stranger. Stephen starts”
Richard Osman, The Last Devil to Die

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