In the military, when the enemy turned on the enemy, they called it “red on red.” Soldiers didn’t have to pretend to be sad about it.

I had to agree with one ex-boyfriend of one crackhead complainant who'd gone missing, when he told me with disdain, 'This is a whole big bunch of unbelievable!

I was constantly amazed by how many people talked me into arresting them.

Do you like being a cop?""I love it, when it doesn't suck, sir.

Later that day when I passed the Admin lieutenant and the Sargeant standing by the Desk, I said casually, "I'm leaving too, Sarge.""Okay," he said, and I kept on walking.

It wasn't as if crack was getting great press in the South Bronx in 1999, but it took a particular kind of idiot to wake up one day and say, 'Angel dust is a product I've heard nothing but good about, and it's about time I was involved.

On Sunday mornings, as the dawn burned into day, swarms of gulls descended on the uncollected trash, hovering and dropping in the cold clear light.

In any case, I was less unhappy than the teammate who wondered whether the purported tribute of being a "well-rounded detective" was a jibe around his weight.

What is the world coming to, when you can't trust a whore named Snake?

When I had to work Shea Stadium for a Mets-Braves game – Atlanta pitcher John Rocker had recently given an interview in which he denounced New Yorkers of all Colors and preferences – I was assigned to a parking lot, where numerous drivers asked me for directions to various highways. When my first answer – “I have no idea” – seemed to invite denunciation and debate, I revised it to “Take the first left.” For all I know, those people are still lost in Queens.