Pleading Guilty Quotes

“Wanna dance?" she asked. "I think they're playing our song."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"The hokey-pokey."

"No shit."

"Sure," she said, "don't you hear it?"

She left her bikini top on, but she removed the bottom and then wrestled off my trunks. She held our suits in one hand and with the other grabbed hold of the horn of plenty.

"Salve work?" she asked.

"Miracle drug," I said

"And how to you do the hokey-pokey?" she asked. "I forget."

"You put your right foot in."

"Right."

"You put your right foot out."

"Good."

"You put your right foot in and you shake it all about."

"Great. What's next?" she asked and kissed me sweetly. "After the foot?”
― Scott Turow, Pleading Guilty

“It was about seven-thirty when I got back to the office, and Brushy, as usual, was still there. Near as I can tell, none of my partners believes that money is the most important thing in the world—they just work as if they did. They are decent folks, my partners, men and women of refined instinct, other-thinking, many of them lively company and committed to a lot of do-good stuff, but we are joined together, like the nucleus of an atom, by the dark magnetic forces of nature—a shared weakness for our own worst desires. Get ahead. Make money. Wield power. It all takes time. In this life you’re often so hard-pressed that scratching your head sometimes seems to absorb an instant you’re sure will be precious later in the day.”
― Scott Turow, Pleading Guilty

“Who is it?" I called sweetly.

"It's Wilt Chamberlain. Open up so we can play one on one.”
― Scott Turow, Pleading Guilty

“I would say there's a spark," I told her, still caught up in that fixed look, her green eyes with their clever gleam. "I would say you'd make a hell of a Boy Scout."

"Boy Scout?"

"Yes, ma'am, cause you keep rubbing that stick, you're gonna get a lot more than a spark."

"I'm hoping for that.”
― Scott Turow, Pleading Guilty

“According to that splendid education I received out at the U., it was Rousseau who began in Western culture the worship of the child, innocent and perfect in nature. Anyone who has raised a human from scratch knows this is a lie. Children are savages—egocentric little brutes who by the age of three master every form of human misconduct, including violence, fraud, and bribery, in order to get what they want. The one who lived in my house never improved. Last fall it turned out that the community college, for which I’d dutifully given him a tuition check at the beginning of each quarter, did not have the bastard registered. A month ago I took him out to dinner and caught him trying to pocket the waitress’s tip. About three times a week I threaten to throw him out, but his mother has told him the divorce decree provides that I will support him until he’s twenty-one—Brushy and I had assumed that meant paying for college—and Nora, who thinks the boy needs understanding, especially since she doesn’t have to provide much, would doubtless find this an occasion for yet another principled disagreement and probably seek an order requiring Lyle and me to get some counseling—another five hundred bucks a month.”
― Scott Turow, Pleading Guilty