Cross My Heart Quotes

“Humans love causing destruction, especially of another human, especially those who have climbed highest. We just like to see them fall.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“The perfect killer, I believe, understands clearly that life is meaningless, absurd, without absolute value. As long as the criminal operates from this perspective, he can't be tripped up by his own mind, and he can't be caught.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“Dropping the phone, I trudged out the front door of my house, left it open to the wind of a coming storm. I walked in a state of total shock through the streets of Washington, alternately catatonic and then overwhelmed by grief, sobbing my heart out. People who passed me on the sidewalks seemed creatures from another lifetime. Their laughter was like some foreign language I’d never understand again.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“Beyond the field my eyes studied a long wall of pine trees, a windbreak of sorts that stretched from the road back toward an old farmhouse and an older barn surrounded by low brush. Through the binoculars, I could just make out the top of Carney’s Impala parked in the side yard by the house. From a long way off you could see that the white house paint was blistered or gone to bare clapboard. The roof of the barn looked like it had been hit by lightning at some point. There was a charred, gaping hole on one corner. The whole structure sagged left.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“life is meaningless, absurd, without absolute value.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“[...] there was no recipe that ensured a good life, and virtue was a joke. So was Karma. Life slapped down the righteous and the spiritual just as easily as the wicked and the free. The trick was to embrace this reality wholeheartedly. In so doing the smart man, the perfect man, the free man could act without fear of consequences.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“A corollary of this philosophy was that the writer did not believe in good or evil. Nor did he believe in justice. Like crime, justice was an abstract, something cooked up by men. It wasn't intrinsic to the universe. Life just was. It happened, sometimes meagerly, sometimes abundantly, sometimes in violent excess. There was no right or wrong about any of it.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“In the writer's experience, death was always drama that rose to a wicked battle and a brutal, brutal end.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“who”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“pale-gray rug. Several pieces of chrome-and-black-leather”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“Die”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“waves of it going through my head. It was”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“You said give him another night,” Bree said. “We gave him one. He could be in there”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“sobered, nodded awkwardly, and acted like he wanted to speak, but didn’t. He turned to a laptop, gave it a command. The screens on the wall displayed what looked at first glance like a collage of images. At center was a photograph Acadia had recently taken of Alex Cross’s house from across Fifth Street. Dotted lines traveled from various windows in the house out to pictures of Dr. Alex, his wife, his grandmother, his daughter, and his younger son. Set off to one side was a framed picture of Damon, Alex Cross’s older son, seventeen and a student at a prep school in western Massachusetts. Digital lines went out from each portrait, linked to images of schools, police stations, churches, grocery stores, and various friends. There were also lines connecting each member of Cross’s family to calendar and clock icons. “He uses mind-mapping software and an Xbox 360 with Kinect to make it work,” Acadia explained. “It’s interactive, Marcus. Just stand in front of the camera and point to what you want.” Intrigued now, Sunday stepped in front of the screens and the Kinect camera. He pointed at the photograph of Cross. The screen instantly jumped to a virtual diary of the detective’s recent life, everything from photographs of Bree Stone, to his kids, to his white Chevy sedan and his best friend, John Sampson, and Sampson’s wife, Billie. Sunday pointed at the calendar, and the screens showed a chronological account of everything he had seen Cross do in the prior month.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“the best in the state, Cannabis Cup winner for sure. Smiling now, N.P. turned his sunglasses at Wilson, said, “I walked down”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“fictitious.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“It had been right there in”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart

“Nope, Ali’s waiting on you. He’s in there watching some cockamamie show about a dysfunctional family that makes duck calls.”
― James Patterson, Cross My Heart