One False Move Quotes

“The house had the stale smell of a grandparent. When you’re a kid, the smell gives you the creeps; when you’re an adult, you want to bottle it and let it out with a cup of cocoa on a bad day.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Mental illnesses are so strange. A physical problem we can understand. But when the mind works irrationally, well, by its very definition, the rational mind cannot truly relate.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Those who claim they can spot a lie are usually just fooled with greater conviction.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“They’re politicians,’ Win said. ‘They’d lie and evade if you asked them what they had for breakfast.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Obsession does not seek out problems and correct them; it manufactures them out of nothing, feeds them, makes them stronger.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Being this handsome. It is not easy, you realize.’ ‘And yet you suffer without complaint.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“He looked maybe half an egg sandwich away from a coronary.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Myron sipped his coffee. Gourmet coffee. A year ago he never drank coffee. Then he started stopping into one of the new coffee bars that kept cropping up like bad movies on cable.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“I remember everything about her. The way she looked. The way she smelled. The way she’d come home from her job so tired she could barely put her feet up. I don’t think I’ve talked about her five times in the past twenty years. But I think about her every day. I think about why she gave me up. And I think about why I still miss her.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“But the irony would not hold. Schoolyards were not about innocence. There were bullies down there too and sociopaths-in-waiting and burgeoning psychoses and young minds filled prenatally with undiluted hate. Okay”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“His smile did more than lack warmth. It was the most purely physical smile Myron had ever seen, a byproduct strictly of the brain giving specific orders to certain muscles. It touched no part of him but his lips. Myron”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Some secret. Myron was still hoping to bump into someone above the equator who didn't know about it.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“His black-to-gray beard was unruly enough to nest beetle larvae, his hair curled like something out of a bad production of Godspell.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“There is a fine line between a coffee break and a crack house.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“There is a very fine line between relentless and stupid,” Win said. “Try to stay on the right side of it.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“From the right, Ted—it simply had to be a guy named Ted—finally made his entrance. He wore only Zoom shorts, and his abdomen was rippled like a relief map in marble. He was probably in his early twenties, model handsome, and he squinted like a prison guard. As he sashayed toward the shoot, Ted kept running both hands through his Superman blue-black hair, the movement expanding his chest and shrinking his waist and demonstrating shaved underarms. Brenda muttered, “Strutting peacock.” “That’s totally unfair,” Myron said. “Maybe he’s a Fulbright scholar.” “I’ve worked with him before. If God gave him a second brain, it would die of loneliness.” Her eyes veered toward Myron. “I don’t get something.” “What?” “Why you? You’re a sports agent. Why would Norm ask you to be my bodyguard?” “I used to work”—he stopped, waved a vague hand—“for the government.” “I never heard about that.” “It’s another secret. Shh.” “Secrets don’t stay secret much around you, Myron.” “You can trust me.” She”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“After three rings the machine picked up. Win’s annoyingly superior accent said, “Hang up without leaving a message and die.” Beep. Myron shook his head, smiled, and, as always, left a message. He”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Or maybe it’s a ploy to get more sex.” She gave him a look that curled his chopsticks. “Maybe it’s working,” she said. “Maybe I’ll slip into something more comfortable,” he said. “Not that Batman mask again.” “Aw, c’mon, you can wear the utility belt.” She thought about it. “Okay, but no stopping in the middle and shouting, ‘Same Bat Time, same Bat Channel.’ ”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Politics and the press; two cherished institutions that spoke with tongues so forked they could double for fine dinnerware.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Myron swiveled toward a voice like warm honey on Sunday pancakes. With her long, purposeful stride - not the shy-girl walk of the too-tall or the nasty strut of a model - Brenda Slaughter swept into the room like a radar-tracked weather system.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“A blond hard-core jogger dressed in tight magenta shorts and a much-tested white sports bra jogged by his car. She looked inside and smiled at him. Myron smiled back. The bare midriff. You take the good with the bad. Across”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Norm looked out over the court. The workers involved in the [model] shoot darted about like trapped particles under sudden heat.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Myron went on. “Horace never knew, did he?” Arthur shook his head. “Anita got pregnant early in our relationship. But Brenda still ended up dark enough to pass. Anita insisted we keep it a secret. She didn’t want our child stigmatized. She also—she also didn’t want our daughter raised in this house. I understood.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Win nodded. “Open the glove compartment. Arm yourself like a paranoid despot. This may get ugly.” Myron”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“There are holes,” Myron admitted. “There are chasms of leviathan proportions,” Win corrected.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Myron shook his head. “The kid would have told us eventually.” “Doubtful. This Sam character had the boy scared.” “So you had to scare him more?” “That would be a yes,” Win said. “You can’t do that again, Win. You can’t hurt innocent people.” “Uh-hmm,” Win said again. He checked his watch. “Are you through now? Is your need to feel morally superior satiated?” “What the hell does that mean?” Win looked at him. “You know what I do,” he said slowly. “Yet you always call on me.” Silence. The echo of Win’s words hung in the air, caught in the humidity like the car fumes. Myron gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles turned white. They did not speak again until they reached Mabel Edwards’s house.”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“So you heard everything?” Win nodded. “What do you think?” “Wasteful,” Win said. “Right, I should have shot him in the knee.” “Well, yes, there is that. But in this instance I am referring to the entire matter.” “Meaning?” “Meaning that Arthur Bradford may be on to something. You are not keeping your eyes on the prize.” “And what is the prize?” Win smiled. “Exactly.” Myron nodded. “Yet again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Arthur Bradford stood by the bus door, microphone in hand. Brother Chance was behind him, smiling in that the-camera-might-be-on-me, gee-isn’t-the-candidate-brilliant mode of the political underling. On his right was Terence Edwards, Brenda’s cousin. He too beamed with a smile about as natural as Joe Biden’s hairline. Both of them were wearing those goofy political Styrofoam hats that looked like something a barbershop quartet might sport. The”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“Myron nodded. “Practical,” he said. Big Cyndi sniffled once, then suddenly began to cry. She still had on waaaay too much makeup, none of it waterproof, and she quickly started to look like a lava lamp left in the microwave. “Oh, Mr. Bolitar!” She ran toward him, her arms spread, the floor creaking from the thumping. An image of one of those cartoon scenes where characters keep falling through floors, forming cutout silhouettes in each floor as they pass through it, came to him. Myron put up his hands. No! Myron good! Myron like Cyndi! Cyndi no hurt Myron! But the gesture was useless. She”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move

“During the last six months of her life none of your wife’s friends saw her. She never went to parties anymore. She never even went to her club.” Whatever club that might have been. “Who told you that?” “I’ve spoken to several of her friends.” Arthur smiled. “You’ve spoken,” he said, “to one senile old goat.” “Careful, Artie. Senile goats have the right to vote.” Myron paused. “Hey, that rhymes. You may have another campaign slogan on your hands: ‘Senile Goats, We Need Your Votes.’ ” No”
― Harlan Coben, One False Move