Quotes About Suspicion

The less we know the more we suspect.

Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; He thinks too much: such men are dangerous.

Treachery, though at first very cautious, in the end betrays itself.

Let the public discover that 5 per cent of your advertising is exaggeration, and it immediately suspects the other 95 per cent.

Until you trust you, you will be suspicious, disconnected and dishonest with yourself and everyone else

used the sordid details of my stories as an excuse to talk badly about men, judge them, mistrust them, expect little from them, and give of myself begrudgingly as I waited for the axe to fall on my neck.

Atwater. "So somebody else went through their rooms?

I don't mind being a suspect when the corpse is a shit-for-brains fuckwit, but if I'd killed her it would've been bloody and loud. And I'd have enjoyed it too much to keep it to myself.

You're a fascinating woman, Eve. Here we are, wet, naked, both of us half dead from a very memorable night, and still you watch me with very cool, very suspicious eyes. You're a suspicious character, Roarke.

He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. Nothing could have pleased him more than the quick suspicion on her face. You won't forget me, Eve. You'll think of me, perhaps not fondly, but you'll think of me. I'm in the middle of a murder investigation. You're part of it. Sure, I'll think of you. Darling, he began, and watched with amusement as his use of the endearment knitted her brow. You'll be thinking of what I can do to you.

You expecting sabotage?" "You don't expect sabotage. That's why it's sabotage.

A lot of nasty things grow out of love if it isn't ... tended right. Jealousy, hate, resentment, suspicion.

A lot of people find rural landscapes relaxing." "Sure, until you start wondering what's creeping behind those trees, or slithering along in the grass.

What are you doing? Washing your hair, he murmured and proceeded to stroke and massage the shampoo into her short, sopping cap of hair. I'm going to enjoy smelling my soap on you. His lips curved. You're a fascinating woman, Eve. Here we are, wet, naked, both of us half dead from a very memorable night, and still you watch me with very cool, very suspicious eyes. You're a suspicious character, Roarke. I think that's a compliment.

Would you be shedding tears for McNab's dead body if he'd been screwing around on you?" Peabody pursed her lips. "Well, since I'd've been the one who killed him, I'd probably be shedding tears for me because you'd be arresting me. And that would really make me sad.

Cakes of rice are not a snack. I suspect them of evil deeds for this alone.

I was rough before. I'm sorry. The apology, so quiet and unexpected, embarrassed her. Forget it. She shifted away, drained her cup, set it aside. I won't forget it; neither will you. He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. Nothing could have pleased him more than the quick suspicion on her face. You won't forget me, Eve. You'll think of me, perhaps not fondly, but you'll think of me. I'm in the middle of a murder investigation. You're part of it. Sure, I'll think of you.

A lot of nasty things grow out of love if it isn't... tended right. Jealousy, hate, resentment, suspicion.

Who'd want to cyanide Brant Fitzhugh?" "You know, I was just wondering the same thing. Strangely, it's our job to figure that out.

Eliza Lane might have drunk

Lawyers and shrinks and suspects." "Oh my.

Forget it." She shifted away, drained her cup, set it aside. "I won't forget it; neither will you." He took her hand, lifted it to his lips. Nothing could have pleased him more than the quick suspicion on her face. "You won't forget me, Eve. You'll think of me, perhaps not fondly, but you'll think of me." "I'm in the middle of a murder investigation. You're part of it. Sure, I'll think of you.

Not once they find out there's been a murder. People love finding out somebody's dead and they're not.

It's that I no longer seem to know where I am. I seem to move around perfectly easily among people, to have perfectly normal relations with them. Is it possible, I ask myself, that all of them are participants in a crime of stupefying proportions? Am I fantasizing it all? I must be mad! Yet every day I see the evidences. The very people I suspect produce the evidence, exhibit it, offer it to me. Corpses. Fragments of corpses they have bought for money.