“It's that wounded-poet crap, that soul-pain shit, that too-much-of-a-tortured-genius-to-wash bollocks. Brush your teeth, you little bastard. You're not fucking Byron.” — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“Hard to remember these days that there was a time you had to wait for the ink and paper reviews to see your work… — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“it was weird. Would you believe it if some supermodel called you up and told you she was your sister?’ Strike thought of his… — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“Strike was used to playing archaeologist among the ruins of people’s traumatised memories;” — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“The model? Whoa.' But Spanner's interest in human beings, even when dead or famous, was still secondary to his fondness for rare comics, technological… — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“so he sat smoking on the sofa with the lower trouser leg hanging empty towards the floor, lost in thought.” — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“People liked to talk; there were very few exceptions, the question was how you made them do it. Some were amenable to alcohol; others… — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“Can I ask who you are, sir?" "Yeah, I expect so," said Strike, walking past him and ringing the doorbell. Anstis's dinner invitation notwithstanding,… — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“With the invention of the internet, any subliterate cretin can be Michiko Kakutani.” — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
“She is a woman of an excellent assurance, and an extraordinary happy wit, and tongue. Ben Jonson, Epicoene, or The Silent Woman” — Robert Galbraith Copy Share Image
