The Keeper of Lost Causes

But promises based on ignorance always prove disappointing.

Carl sent a message from his brain to his hands that it was still illegal to strangle people.

I drive a taxi and a car and a truck and a T-55 tank and also a T-62 and armored cars and the motorcycles with and without sidecars.

So, I suppose you just have a sense of where it is. And you don’t have to be precise, is that it?” “Allah is great. He has such wide shoulders.” Carl stuck out his lower lip in a pout. Of course Allah did. What was he thinking, anyway?

It would be hard to find a more evil villain than Carl Mørck in a spaghetti Western.

Who would kill the one person who made life worth living?

For a moment Carl tried to picture everything in his mind, and then it happened. Somewhere inside of him, where cause and effect were not weighted against each other, and where logic and explanations never challenged consciousness, in that place where thoughts could live freely and played out against each other - right there in that spot, things fell into place, and he understood how it all fitted together

Carl: Do I happen to see a twinkle in your eye, or do you always look so fantastic Lis? Lis: Carl dear, the twinkle in my eye is reserved for my husband and children, When are you going to accept that? Carl: I'll accept it the day the light vanishes and eternal darkness swallows me up along with the rest of the earth.

Was she pregnant then?' asked Assad. Judging by the number of family members in his photos, it was a feminine condition with which he was quite familiar.

@She is really really so beautiful there,' said Assad. Carl glanced at him. Apparently a woman's appearance was a particularly valuable factor in his assistant's world-view. But Carl agreed with him.

She was a bitch,' Carl suddenly heard somebody say in the background, and that apparently refreshed everyone's memory. yes, thought Carl with satisfaction. It's the good stable arseholes like us who are remembered best.

Morten Holland så på ham som om han hadde spist noe rart. «Er du sprø, Carl? Det der er eske 3965 fra år 2000. Jeg har hele kassen med hus og balkong og alt.» Han pekte på den øverste hyllen. Og så sannelig. Der sto hele huset i all sin plastprakt. «Har du noen andre jeg kan låne, da? Bare til i morgen kveld?» Morten så plutselig helt fortapt ut i ansiktet. Det hadde antagelig ikke gjort noen forskjell om Carl hadde spurt om å få gi ham et skikkelig ballespark.

Carl responding to something Camilla did, "The next time you touch my equipment, I'm going to puncture your silicon boobs and then claim it happened because you resisted arrest after threatening to slug me with one of your brother's trophies. When I slap the cuffs on you, and you're waiting for the doctor as you stare at the blank white wall of a prison cell in Hillerod, you'll dream about taking back that pat you just gave me. Shall we proceed, or do do have anything to add regarding my nobler parts?