Lee Goldberg Quotes

I had to stop him from arresting an old lady who let her dog urinate against the fire hydrant that was in front of Burgerville headquarters.
"You'll blow our cover."
"But what if there is a fire?"
"The fire department will come and put it out," I said.
"With what?"
"Water," I said.
"Not from that hydrant," Monk said. "It's inoperable."
"No, it's not," I said. "It can still be used."
"There is urine all over it," Monk said. "no fireman would dare touch it, nor would any other human being."
"Firefighters run into burning buildings," I said."They aren't going to care about some dog pee on a fire hydrant."
"They would if they knew," Monk said. "We should call and warn them. Call Joe right now. He can get the word out faster than we can."
"Every fire hydrant in the city has dog pee on it, Mr. Monk. It's how dogs mark their territory. I can guarantee you that every male dog that has passed that hydrant has pissed on it."
He looked at me, wide eyed, "No."
"It's what dogs do," I said. "The firefighters knows this."
Monk swallowed hard. "And they still use the hydrants?"
"Of course they do."
"They are the bravest men on earth," Monk said solemnly.

This is humor: A Japanese woman experiences discomfort in her eye, so she goes to see a qualified ophthalmologist. After a thorough examination, the doctor tells the Japanese woman that she has a cataract. She says, 'No, I don't. I have a Lincoln Continental.

Nipples are a fact of life. We all have them.

After that experience, I immediately enrolled Julie in tae kwon do class, despite her protests. I wanted to be sure that if she were ever attacked, her instincts would take over, and that her instincts would kick ass.

When I arrived, he was in the kitchen, in the middle of his Sunday morning ritual of cleaning his cleaning supplies.

Julie nearly fainted when I showed up at home that night with the new Lexus. The first thing she wanted to do was drive it. I let her drive all over San Francisco with the windows rolled up, because we didn't want to lose one precious whiff of that new-car smell.

You're owed a refund on your manhood.

Standing up for what you believe in comes at a price but backing down exacts a toll that your soul never stops paying

I refilled the wineglass and took it with me for a nice long bubble bath, where I settled in with Ambrose's guide for low-voltage outdoor lighting.
It wasn't thrilling bubble-bath reading material, but I was impressed by his imagination. You wouldn't know from the writing that he'd never actually seen a low-voltage lighting system in someone's yard, much less installed one himself. His descriptions were clear, colorful, and written with authority. The inscription wasn't bad either: To Natalie, You're a high-voltage system as far as I am concerned.

So there you have it: Nature is a rotten mess. But that's only the beginning. If you take your eyes off it for one second, it will kill you. Thorns, insects, fungus, worms, birds, reptiles, wild animals, raging rivers, bottomless ravines, dry deserts, snow, quicksand, tumbleweeds, sap, and mud. Rot, poison and death. That's Nature."
"It's a wonder you even step outside of your cabin," I said.
"My bravery exceeds my good sense," he said.

I had to wonder, though, if there's something about a murderer, particularly a confident one, that gives him a certain charisma or charm that I, in particular, am susceptible to.
I mean, there's a reason more women are attracted to Dracula than repelled by him.
I made a resolution to myself. From now on, I'd assume that every man I was attracted to was a murderer until proven otherwise.
Perhaps it wasn't the most promising strategy for starting a relationship, but I might live longer.

Of course, that rationalization didn't work at all. It would have helped if I'd had some Oreo cookie ice cream to eat that the same time. I've learned that self-delusion is much easier when there's something sweet in your mouth.

Numbers are a lot like people. They each have a story. They interact with one another. They entertain. They inform. They deceive. They can create happiness or inflict enormous pain. You have to know how to get them to talk.

Wait a second," Andy said, snapping his fingers. "You're Vietnamese." "Don't say it," Sun warned. But Andy, a grin stretched across his face, couldn't resist. "You're a Vietnam vet." Sun's face became even harder, something Andy hadn't thought possible. "Never heard that one before. Open the pen there." Andy lifted the latch on the gate and Sun led the sheep out of the pen and over to the entrance door. "I've visited Viet Nam twice," Andy said. "Beautiful place. All of those war movies make it look like hell, but it's actually very tranquil, don't you think?" "I wouldn't know. I've never been there. I'm an American.

During a Middle East peace talk you insulted the Iraqi ambassador." "He was a pervert who liked little girls.

It's a tough job being somebody's personal assistant. You have to anwser their phone, manage their correspondence, run their errands, pay their bills, arrange their schedule, and basically do whatever tasks, menial to major, they are too busy or self absorbed or distranted or pampered or disinterested to do themselves.

It takes a lot of energy just to deal with life when you are neurotic and obsessive-compulsive.

Mulholland Drive is a two-lane, serpentine road that runs along the crest of the mountains and is named after the guy who built a two-hundred-mile aqueduct to drain water from the Northern California delta down to Los Angeles just so developers could get rich building homes in a place that otherwise is inhospitable to human life. The whole city is a carefully