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Book: Dark Sacred Night
Quotes of Book: Dark Sacred Night

Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
There was something deeply affecting about that. Something unfair that went beyond the general unfairness of death at the hands of another. She wondered how men would live if they knew that in every moment of their lives, their size and nature made them vulnerable to the opposite sex.
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
that one moment that takes all other moments away-all fear, all sadness-and leaves just joy. Just hope. Sometimes love.
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
The details made no difference either way to Bosch, because he considered her death a murder. It was a nine-year-old murder, and whoever had taken Daisy had also taken Elizabeth. Never mind that the killer had never met or even seen Elizabeth. He took everything that mattered away from her. He had killed her just as plainly as he had killed her daughter. Two for the price of one.
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
Goodbye The Late Show Two Kinds of Truth Nonfiction Crime Beat Ebooks Suicide Run Angle of Investigation Mulholland Dive The Safe Man Switchblade
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
Neither spoke, neither made a sound except for the deep exhalation of breath. First he felt her hips shudder, and soon after he desperately reached up and pulled her down into an embrace as his own body created that one moment that takes all other moments away-all fear, all sadness-and leaves just joy. Just hope. Sometimes love.
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
Hollywood Boulevard curved in and out along the mountain's edge. The house she stood on was at a sharp bend around a blind curve. Ballard spotted a house on the curve that had a camera ostensibly aimed at a side stairway down to a landing below street level. But she knew that depending on the camera's angle, there was a chance its field of view included the roof she stood on
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
Ballad spent the next half hour trying to locate Eagleton, but she found nothing. No driver's license, no recent arrests. The last known record of him had been the FI card Farmer had filled out. He had stopped Eagleton and questioned him when he was seen loitering around the Metro entrance on Hollywood Boulevard near Vine. In the blank marked "Occupation" Farmer had written "panhandler." There were now no indications as to whether Eagleton was alive or dead, only that he had gone completely off the electronic grid
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
Ballard killed the engine but sat in her city ride for a moment. She had parked in front of the gap between two houses and could look out at the lights of the city spreading in a vast carpet below. Not many people realized that Hollywood Boulevard wound up into the mountains, narrow and tight, to where it was strictly residential and far in all ways from the glitz and grime of the Hollywood Boulevard tourist mecca, where visitors posed with costumed superheroes and sidewalk stars. Up here it was money and power and Ballard knew that a murder in the hills always brought out the department's big guns. She was just babysitting. She would not have this case for long. It would go to West Bureau Homicide or possibly even Robbery-Homicide Division downtown, depending on who was dead and what their social status was
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
handwritten on the photos. Ballard assumed these were the dates of their acceptance of Jesus Christ. "If you are here to talk me out of a complaint, then you can save your words," he said. "I decided that charity would be more useful than anger." Ballard thought about Bosch's saying that it would be suspicious if McMullen did not make a complaint. "Thank you," she said. "I was coming to apologize if we offended you. We had an incomplete description of the van we were looking for." "I understand," McMullen said. Ballard nodded at the wall behind him. "Those are the people you've baptized?" she asked. McMullen glanced behind him at the wall and smiled. "Just some of them," he said. "There are many more." Ballard looked up at the calendar. The photo showed a gold and maroon sunset and a quote: Commit your way to the LORD.Trust HIM and HE will help you. Her eyes scanned down to the dates and she noticed that a number was scribbled in each day's square. Most were single digits but on some days the number was higher. "What do the numbers mean?" she asked. McMullen followed her eyes to the calendar. "Those are the numbers of souls who receive the sacrament," he said. "Each night I count how many people took the Lord and Savior into their hearts. Each dark sacred night brings more souls to Christ.
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
They went back to work. There were no more callouts for Ballard that shift. She got her report writing finished and filed and then joined Bosch on the FI cards. By dawn they had made it through the two boxes they brought from storage. Fifty more cards were added to the stack that warranted a second look but did not rise to the level of requiring immediate action. As they worked through the cards, they had talked and Bosch had told her stories about his days in Hollywood Homicide in the 1990s. She noticed that he, or in some instances the media, had given names to many of his cases: the Woman in the Suitcase, the Man with No Hands, the Dollmaker, and so on. It was as though homicides back then were an event. Now it seemed that nothing was new, nothing shocked
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
For every noble movement or advancement in the human endeavor across time, there were always betrayers who set everything a step back.
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Michael Connelly _ Dark Sacred Night
Where do we start?" she asked. "I don't know. Just call me when it's time. I'll be around.
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