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“Blomkvist had indeed had many brief relationships. He knew he was reasonably good-looking, but he had never considered himself exceptionally attractive. But he had often been told that he had something that made women interested in him . . .that he radiated self-confidence and security at the same time, that he had the ability to make women feel at ease. Going to bed with him was not threatening or complicated, but it might be erotically enjoyable. And that, according to Blomkvist, was as it should be.”
― Stieg Larsson, The Girl Who Played With Fire

“I've never had a boy in here," Martin said in a serious voice. "I've never touched another man, as a matter of fact. . . .except for my father. That was my duty."

Blomkvist's temples were pounding. He could not put his weight on his feet without being strangled. He tried to use his fingers to get a grip on the concrete wall behind him, but there was nothing to hold onto.

"It's time," Martin Vanger said.

He put a hand on the strap and pulled down. Blomkvist instantly felt the noose cut into his neck.

"I've always wondered how a man tastes."

He increased the pressure on the noose and leaned forward to kiss Blomkvist on the lips at the same time that a cold voice cut through the room.

"Hey you fucking creep, in this shithole I've got a monopoly on that one.”
― Stieg Larsson, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo