Quotes About Intrigue

T-shirt lifts just enough so that you can see my midsection—you need something to dream about—and

You see Elliot in Hannah scam his way to be near his sister-in-law and you call that romantic but if you knew what I went through to get into your home, that I messed up my back trying to know you, inside and out, you'd judge me for it.

Did you kill me yet?" "Eat your fucking ice cream.

When you have cat stealers over for tea, you clean the house, buy bagels and cream cheese, and try to figure out how to trap your guests in a lie.

Tinkie's on the list." "That's ridiculous. She and Enzo were only flirting." "And Oscar showed his ass and then was seen floundering in the bayou where a blow-up sex doll, complete with a death threat, later showed up in front of an entire town."... "Even though they don't have a body, Pret is thinking Enzo's disappearance may prove to be a homicide.

Because, good God, Lily Wellstone had the face of an angel, the body of a goddess, and the spirit of the devil glinting from her eyes. She was a woman worth losing his soul for.

Nancy, every place you go, it seems as if mysteries just pile up one after another.

Chuckling to herself, Nancy said aloud, "Romance and detective work won't mix tonight!

She always has close calls when she solves a mystery!

Luther, bring the gatekeeper quickly!" Bell ordered. "Just how did you get in, Miss Drew?" "I came in at the entrance," Nancy replied. "The larkspur is beautiful.

Do act mysterious. It always keeps them coming back for more

I have a hunch from reading about old passageways that there may be one or more rooms off this tunnel," Nancy told Captain Rossland.

Suddenly Nancy spotted the mysterious Arab

Read my story, walk through these woods, and when you get to the other side, you may not even realize that you're carrying something out that you didn't have when you went in. A little tick of an idea, clinging to your scalp or hidden in a fold of skin. Somewhere out of sight. By the time you discover it, it's already begun to prey on you; perhaps it's merely gouged your flesh, or perhaps it's already begun to nibble away at your central nervous system.

We never know, do we, what our neighbors might be doing behind their fences, what love affairs and bloody rituals might be taking place right next door? The world is a more interesting place that we ever think.

But all I can see is the light glinting off the edges of the interesting ones.

Vulgar and obscene, the papers run rumors daily about people in show business, tales of wicked ways and witless affairs.

Put it in terms of the not-too-serious, if you like. Who got into that locked room? And how was it done? And why should the cup have been moved again? We're up against the essential detective problems of who, how, and why. Simply because there was no murder or near-murder, does that make the mystery one bit less baffling?

I never met a gal who represented a mystery to me in quite the fetchin' way you did. It'd be dull and dreary just to find out how a crook got in and out of a locked room to steal a gold-and-jewelled cup. But it's very rummy, and fascinates the old man a bit, to wonder why a crook didn't steal a gold-and-jewelled cup he should have stolen.

I wondered why Westerners were so enthralled with a religious activity that didn't incite much enthusiasm even among its own people in India.

She turned and looked at him. "Ducks?" she said again. A smile tugged the edge of his mouth. "I hate ducks. Don't know why. I just always have.

Did Brother Zachariah just steal our cat?

Where there is mystery, it is generally supposed there must be evil.

A dainty rogue in porcelain