The Martin Beck Series: Books 1–4

"In August was the jackal born, The rains fell in September. 'Now such a fearful flood as this,' Says he, 7 can't remember!'"
'What is that?"
'A quote," said Kollberg. "Someone named Kipling."

She had already waited too long for that clanging telephone ring which would smash her peace of mind

In the weak light reflected from the street, her eyes looked like dark holes in her pale face.

The hounds chased themselves to death without the fox even noticing it,

A click, and empty silence and it was as if she were a thousand miles away. Years had passed since they had really talked.

De mortuis nihil nisi bene.

She was alone. She liked being alone. She read a great deal

: Why did it break up?
M: I fell in love with her.

I just can't sleep."
'What do you do then?"
'Just lie there and think about how dreadful you are."

You sound worse than eighteen Ladies of the Camelias.