Promise Me Quotes

“Years fly by, but the heart stays in the same place.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“There was an old joke about being left on a deserted island with an editor. You are starving. All you have left is a glass of orange juice. Days pass. You are near death. You are about to drink the juice when the editor grabs the glass from your hand and pees into it. You look at him, stunned . "There," the editor says, handing you the glass. "It just needed a little tweaking.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Oh, you’ve made plenty of short stories long. But never, ever, have you made a long story short.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“The missing girl—there had been unceasing news reports, always flashing to that achingly ordinary school portrait of the vanished teen, you know the one, with the rainbow-swirl background, the girl's hair too straight, her smile too self-conscious, then a quick cut to the worried parents on the front lawn, microphones surrounding them, Mom silently tearful, Dad reading a statement with quivering lip—that girl, that missing girl had just walked past Edna Skylar.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“The other: “Oh my God, we were like so wasted.” “From beer?” “Beer and shots, yeah.” “How did you get home?” “Randy drove.” At the top of the stairs, Myron stiffened.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“She circled in front of the woman, trying not to be too obvious, ducking behind taller people, and when she was in the right place, Edna spun around. The possible-Katie was walking toward her. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and Edna knew.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“I’m saying?”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“him by pointing out what should have been obvious: “One of our worst and most accepted prejudices is against large women. We never, ever, see past it.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Her children wouldn’t have been born. Children, of course, change everything. You can’t wish it all never happened, because that would be the ultimate betrayal: How could you live with yourself if you wished your children never existed?”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Every once in a while you try to trace your life back to a time like that, when everything was so good. You try to go back and figure out how it started and the path you’d taken and how you ended up here, if there was a moment you could go back to and somehow alter and poof, you wouldn’t be here, you’d be someplace better.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“You could hear the belts clack open. Why? What did people gain from that extra second? Was it that we just liked to defy rules?”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“So Myron didn’t come here for comfort or to pay his respects. He came because he still needed to hurt, needed the wounds to stay fresh. He still wanted to be outraged because moving on—feeling at peace with what happened to her—was too obscene.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“That’s the rules.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“She had not been sure what to wear—a classic peach maid of honor dress or a black leather corset. Her compromise: peach leather with a fringed hem, sleeveless so as to display arms with the relative dimensions and consistency of marble columns on a Georgian mansion. Big Cyndi’s hair was done up in a mauve Mohawk and pinned on the top was a little bride-and-groom cake decoration.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Men tracht und Gott lacht.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“The rust on the fire escape was so thick that tetanus seemed a far greater threat than smoke inhalation.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“you prefer macho he-men,” Myron said. “I understand.” She snickered. “Why does he keep looking at me like that?” “My guess? He’s probably checking out your ass.” “Good to know somebody is.” Myron cleared his throat, glanced away. “So you want to have dinner together tomorrow?” “That would be nice.” “I’ll pick you up at seven.” Ali put her hand on his chest. Myron felt something electric in the touch. She stood on tiptoes—Myron was six-four—and kissed his cheek. “I’ll cook for you.” “Really?”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“wave. “Hey, girls.” Myron Bolitar prided himself on big opening lines. The girls were both high school seniors, both pretty in that coltish way. The one sitting on the corner of his old bed—the one he had met for the first time an hour ago—was named Erin. Myron had started dating Erin’s mother, a widow and freelance magazine writer named Ali Wilder, two months ago. This party, here at the house Myron had grown up in and now owned, was something of a “coming out” party for Myron and Ali as a couple. The other girl, Aimee Biel, mimicked his wave and tone. “Hey, Myron.” More silence. He first saw Aimee Biel the day after she was born”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“How is Ed?” “He’s good.” She smiled warmly. “He’s a nice man.” “Yeah,” Loren said, “a prince.” “I’ve known him a long time.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“If I go all out in the smooth department,” Myron said, “women all over the tri-state area begin to disrobe. I need to harness the power.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Claire kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear again. “You look happy.” “I am,” he said. Claire beamed. “Ali’s great, isn’t she?” “She is.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Myron looked toward Erin. Erin had her eyes down. The room went quiet. He waited. She eventually looked up. She looked scared and small and young. He wanted to take her in his arms, but man, would that ever be the wrong move. “No,” Myron said softly, still holding Erin’s gaze. “Not even close to the worst.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Doesn’t matter anymore.” “Yeah, it does.” “Nah, not really. With all due respect, none of this does. Look, high school is over. I’m going to Dartmouth. Aimee is going to Duke. My mom, she told me something. She said that high school isn’t important. The people who are happiest in high school end up being the most miserable adults. I’m lucky. I know that. And I know it won’t last unless I take the next step. I thought . . . we talked about it. I thought Aimee understood that too. How important the next step was. And in the end, we both got what we wanted. We got accepted to our first choices.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Randy Wolf was surrounded by about six guys. Some were huge. The quarterback and his offensive line, Myron figured. “This butt-face bothering you, Pharm?” The one who said that was huge. He grinned at Myron. The guy had spiky blond hair, but what you first noticed, what you couldn’t help but notice, was that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Here they were at a party. There were girls and punch and music and dancing and even parents. And this guy wasn’t wearing a shirt. Randy didn’t say anything. Shirtless had barbed-wire tattoos around his bloated biceps. Myron frowned. The tattoos couldn’t have been more wannabe without the word wannabe actually being stenciled in. The guy was slabs and slabs of beef. His chest was so smooth it looked like someone had taken a sander to it. He rippled. His forehead was sloped. His eyes were red, indicating that at least some of the beer had found its way to the underaged. He wore calf-length pants that might have been capris, though Myron didn’t know if guys wore those or not. “What are you looking at, Butt-face?” Myron said, “Absolutely—and I mean this sincerely—absolutely nothing.” There”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“But still, even with wimps like Erik, there was one line you don’t cross. You cross it, you never come back. It had to do with your children. A man protects his family at all costs. No matter what the sacrifice. You will take any hit. You will go to the ends of the earth and risk everything to keep them from harm. You don’t back away. Never. Not until your dying breath. Someone”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Wow.” “You’ve got quite the vocabulary.” “Never use a big word when a small one will suffice.” “I could make a crack here, but I won’t.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“How’s the couch work for you?” she said. “I don’t care if we do it on a bed of nails at half court at Madison Square Garden.” They”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“At the end, Myron looked at Rufus. “Leave us alone for a minute.” “No way.” But Katie had some of her poise back. “It’s okay, Rufus.” He stood. “I’ll be right behind the door,” Rufus said to Myron, “with my associates. You got me?” Myron bit back the rejoinder and waited until they were alone. He thought about Dominick Rochester, how he was trying to find his daughter, how maybe he knew that Katie was in a place like this with a man like Rufus and how maybe his overreaction—his desire to find his daughter—was suddenly understandable. Myron”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“Rufus arched an eyebrow, proud of his ingenuity. “But see, Rufus has lots of girls working for him. And if they have money I figure he takes them to an ATM and gets them to clear out the cash. He has one of the clubs in here. A place called Barely Legal. It’s for men who want girls that are—” “I think I can put together what they want. Go on.” “Legal,” Rufus said, raising a finger. “The name is Barely Legal. The key word is legal. All the girls are over eighteen.” “I’m sure your mother must be the envy of her book group, Rufus.” Myron turned back to Katie. “So you thought . . . ?” “I didn’t think. Like I said, I just reacted.” Rufus”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me

“The dark-haired man smiled. “You left one option off when you talked to my friend here.” “What’s that?” “Option three.” He held up three fingers in case Myron didn’t know what the word three meant. “We make sure you can’t tell her father.” He grinned. The other men grinned. Myron spread his arms and said, “How?” That made the man frown again. “Huh?” “How are you going to make sure of that?” Myron looked around. “You guys are going to jump me—that’s the plan? So then what? The only way to shut me up would be to kill me. You willing to go that far? And what about my lovely associate out in the front room? Are you going to kill her too? And what about my other associates”—might as well exaggerate with the plural—“who are outside? Are you going to kill them too? Or is your plan, what, to beat me up and teach me a lesson? If so, one, I’m not a good learner. Not that way at least. And two, I’m looking at all of you and memorizing your faces, and if you do attack me, you better make sure I’m dead because if not, I’ll come after you, at night, when you’re sleeping, and I’ll tie you down and pour kerosene on your crotch and set it on fire.” Myron Bolitar, Master of Melodrama. But he kept his eyes steady and looked at their faces carefully, one at a time.”
― Harlan Coben, Promise Me