“How come doormen always hate me?" she asked Peabody as they moved to the elevator.
"I think they sense your disdain, like pheromones. Of course, if you told them you were married to Roarke, they'd immediately fall to their knees and worship you."
"I'd rather be feared and hated.”

“What now?"
"We're going shopping."
"Sir, have you had a blow to the head recently?”

“Eve saw something that looked, sort of, like an underdeveloped, hairless monkey with a really big head. "Wow."
"See, you can even count the tiny, little fingers."
Which, to Eve's mind, made it all creepier. What did it do with those fingers inside there?”

“What's that? Is that chocolate? Real chocolate?"
"What?" Panicked, Eve shoved the hand behind her back. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm working here."
"I can smell it." To prove it, Peabody sniffed the air like a wolf. "That's not chocolate substitute, that's not soy. That's real goods."
"Maybe. And it's mine."
"Just let me have a little-" Peabody's gasp was shocked and heartfelt as Eve stuffed the remaining chunk in her mouth. "Oh, Dallas." She swallowed hard. "That was very childish.”

“I think it's nice we're both having regular sex. It keeps us in rhythm."
"Shut up, shut up."
"Can't help it. I'm happy."
"I can fix that.”

“There she is. Hello, darlin'."
"Roarke." Every other thought flew out of her head, slapped away by love and worry. "Where are you?"
"In Dublin's fair city." He grinned at her.
"Are you... Are you drunk?"
"Well and truly pissed, that I am. We're well into the second bottle now. Or maybe it's the third. Who's counting?”

“See that you take care of my cop. I can't live without her."
"Take care of my drunk Irishman. I can't live without him either."
He blinked those blurry eyes in confusion. "What, Brian?"
"No, you idiot. You."
"Oh." He grinned at her again, so foolishly her throat burned. "That's good then. Makes us even. 'Night now.”

“It wasn't like that, Lieutenant. They were just talking to me."
"I love this guy." Baxter wiped an imaginary tear away. "Just fucking love him."
"If Baxter hits on you, Trueheart, you have permission to kick his ass.”

“I'm not going back with the cows. I don't love you that much."
"We'll leave the cows to their cow business."
"Which is what, exactly? No, I don't want to know," she decided as he pulled her out the door. "I get these weird and scary pictures in my head. What's that thing out there?" she asked, pointing.
"It's called a tractor.”

“You pop me something good, and you'll get a reward."
"You, naked, and a large quantity of chocolate sauce?"
"Pervert.”

“He's gone? The house is Summerset-free?"
"Left not twenty minutes ago, still limping a bit, but-"
"I must be slipping. I should've known. I should've felt it."
She kicked her jacket into the air, wiggled her hips, did what might have been a cha-cha down the hall.”