Exile Quotes

“She walked through the underpass at the Elephant and Castle, enjoying the sense that nothing really mattered, not the truth about the past, nor whether they believed her, not Winnie’s drinking or Vik’s ultimatum. It was the perfect place to escape from a painful past. She could waste years at home trying to make sense of a random series of events. There was no meaning, no lessons to be learned, no moral—none of it meant anything. She could spend her entire life trying to weave meaning into it, like compulsive gamblers and their secret schema. Nothing mattered, really, because an anonymous city is the moral equivalent of a darkened room. She understood why Ann had come here and stayed here and died here. It wouldn’t be hard. All she had to do was let go of home. She would phone Leslie and Liam sometimes, say she was fine, fine, let the calls get farther apart, make up a life for herself and they’d finally forget.”
― Denise Mina, Exile

“Bout a month ago. She came in Boxing Day but I put her out. She was begging people, not even tapping, but begging for drink.”
“She can’t have been disrupting ye, surely?” asked Maureen.
“See those old swines over there?” He gestured to his only customers. The old men heard him and their chat fell silent.
The barman raised his voice. “They were asking what they would get for their money. Auld swines, playing on the lassie’s weakness for the drink.” He lowered his voice. “That’s pensioners for ye — they can smell a bargain a mile off,” he muttered, as if the bargain-hunting skill of the elderly was an unspoken universal truth.”
― Denise Mina, Exile

“He was an officious prick with a Freddie Mercury moustache and the social skills of a horny lapdog.”
― Denise Mina, Exile

“My life in politics has taught me that the only thing more difficult than fighting against our enemies is taking questions from my friends.” Amid knowing chuckles, he promised, “Nonetheless, I shall do my best.”
― Richard North Patterson, Exile

“But for a good while the CIA interpreted that law to exclude disclosure of the fact that its payroll included five associates of Adolf Eichmann, who planned Hitler’s extermination of six million Jews.”
― Richard North Patterson, Exile

“You know what amazes me, Zev? It’s that so many Jews and Palestinians don’t give a damn about one another’s stories. Too many Palestinians don’t grasp why three thousand years of death and persecution make Jews want their own homeland, or how suicide bombings alienate Jews and extend the occupation. Too many Jews refuse to acknowledge their role in the misery of Palestinians since 1948, or that the daily toll of occupation helps fuel more hatred and violence. So both become clichés: Jews are victims and oppressors; Palestinians are victims and terrorists. And the cycle of death rolls on. The two things the extremists have in common is how much they hated Amos Ben-Aron, and a gift for keeping old hatreds fresh.” David stopped, then continued more evenly: “In three short weeks I’ve seen all kinds of suffering, from the families in Haifa to the misery of Hana’s parents. But they live in different worlds. Hana has become a bit player in a tragedy that shows no sign of ending. Not for her, or her daughter, or anyone who lives here.” Ernheit studied him coolly. “In the end, David, which side would you choose?” David’s own gaze did not waiver. “I’m a Jew. I feel more at home here; on the West Bank, I heard enough anti-Semitism to remind me of how often Jews have had no choice but to fight or run. So if I had to choose, I’d have no choice. “The problem is that every day more choices are foreclosed for those who live here. Each day that Jews fight to build more settlements or Palestinians stoke the fantasy of return, they guarantee that someone else will die. And the hatred embedded in the DNA of this region continues to metastasize.”
― Richard North Patterson, Exile

“Because I’m enclosing a fourth sample. I’d like you to compare its DNA to the others.” “ASAP, of course.” “It’s about the Arif case.” Despite his effort to control it, David’s voice thickened. “All I can tell you is that this could help me save a life. But it’s Friday, so at least you’ve got the weekend.” When David got off the call, he stared at his darkened window, motionless. Then he took the scissors from his desk drawer, and cut off a lock of his own hair.”
― Richard North Patterson, Exile

“She had sounded progressively more and more tipsy”
― Denise Mina, Exile

“Leslie’s leathers and dirty hair would be chic in a biker bar but in the glittery galleria she looked as seemly as a dead toenail in a pair of strappy sandals.”
― Denise Mina, Exile

“She leavened her determination with a warm, sometimes lightly flirtatious manner,”
― Richard North Patterson, Exile

“Maureen didn’t know what to say so she told the truth. “You’re frightening me,” she shouted.

Inness stopped still. “I didn’t mean to,” he said stupidly.

In a TV movie they would have hugged each other, he’d have come back in and they’d have had an honest discussion about their feelings, a sun-dappled moment of tenderness with a stranger, and they’d leave, elevated and touched at their common humanity.

But this was Glasgow. “Fuck you,” shouted Maureen, and slammed the door in his face.”
― Denise Mina, Exile