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1 " Raymond collected expressions. He repeated them in experimental accents, as if learning a tune. He sounded like an Eighteenth Street Mexican when he said cuate, like a Logan Square cubano when he said comemierda. "
― Sebastian Rotella
2 " Pescatore marveled at the seascape. It gave him vertigo. The wind deployed cloud formations. The sun seared the Moroccan coastline. He had read a line once about "the lion-colored hills of Africa." Were they lion-colored? What color was a lion exactly? "
3 " Isabel, remember we used to talk about a honeymoon in Spain?""Of course.""It woulda been a blast. I took a walk last night. Two in the morning, it felt like two in the afternoon. Traffic. People on the street: families, old folks on benches. The bars and restaurants were full, everybody carrying on. Hard to believe there's an economic crisis.""Maybe they should shut up, get some sleep, and fix the mess. "
― Sebastian Rotella , The Convert's Song (Valentine Pescatore #2)
4 " In conversation, he came off as if he was enjoying a private joke at your expense. When he sang, though, he sounded as if he believed every word with all his heart. And it became hard to dislike him. "
5 " That's what happens. Governments fuck you around. People fuck you around. By the time they're done, you don't know who you are. Especially if you weren't sure to begin with. "
6 " That Raymond was something," Nestor said. "Very talented.""Perhaps not the best pianist." Bocha grimaced apologetically, as if compelled to put that evaluation on the record."He used to tell me he was basically faking it on the piano," Pescatore said. "He said he played just well enough to get into trouble. "
7 " We all have had inconvenient friends. "
8 " He'd cut your throat and laugh about it, then go home and tell his mother, so she could laugh about it too. "
― Sebastian Rotella , Triple Crossing (Valentine Pescatore #1)
9 " He watched the ghostly army on the march. Headlights swept the immigrants. The concrete gleamed wet and black beneath their boots and gym shoes. His countrymen covered their heads with hoods, baseball caps, newspapers, plastic bags. Or they simply hunched their shoulders, impervious to the rain, the fatigue, the roar and hiss of metal monsters rushing by a few feet away. The immigrants knew the freeway median was a reasonably safe limbo in some ways: no bandits, no Border Patrol, no rough terrain. Just put one foot in front of the other. Pray the cars stay in their lanes. Try not to think about the moment when you'll have to sprint across this cement deathscape hauling your wife, your kids, your worldly possessions. Maybe the moment can be postponed indefinitely. Maybe you can just keep walking north and the freeway median will take you where you want to go. "
10 " There may be obstacles, but money is not one," the Iranian said."Good. Money is usually an obstacle if you don't have it. "
11 " Essentially, the Algerians said: 'Listen. We lost two hundred thousand in our civil war. Car bombs, villages destroyed, terrorist slashing the throats of families like sheep. We are still very busy. We don't have time for your indaginetta, your little investigation.' I realized something: They were on the front line. I was scratching the surface. Even when I captured real terrorists, they weren't the bosses. They were fanatics, criminals, idiots, sadists--manipulated from afar. Sometimes by masterminds, sometimes by Twitter, Facebook, all that crap. "
― Sebastian Rotella , Rip Crew (Valentine Pescatore #3)
12 " The reality is that many of us in these parts are not enamored of Paris." The Commandant gulped down his coffee. "I worked there as a young officer in the CRS, the riot squad. I speak from personal experience. Paris is bizarre. Paris is a museum surrounded by a jungle. "
