Quotes About Intrigue

I liked things better when I didn't understand them.

There is no such thing on earth as an uninteresting subject; the only thing that can exist is an uninterested person.

I would rather be confused for 10 minutes than bored for 5 seconds.

'Write what you know' works, but it's limiting. Write what fascinates you. Write what you can't stop thinking about.

A good book is like an unreachable itch. You just can't leave it alone.

The American's head are on their chins a little bit at the moment

Can you see through the night, woman, that you stare so upon it? Man, what sparks do your eyes follow in the smouldering darkness?

Sweet girl, if I told you everything, life would lose all mystery.

Shaggy existentialists in frayed sandals, dilettantes by the score, spies by the portfolio.

Alice twists a lock of her hair as she sucks on her straw and swivels back and forth on her seat. The shush of the ball bearings sounds like the sea to her, like waves retreating through the sand. She is a thousand miles away. I know this, but I'm not going to let her know I know.

Lord save us all from the machinations of an intelligent female.

According to the local gossip," Gertie said, "Beulah was over the moon for this guy. She even mailed him a pair of her underwear." "If he was really a marine," Ida Belle said, "he could have used them as a parachute.

Is this what it's like for you—you walk in on naked people?" he asked. "The kind of people who you never, ever want to see naked in the first place?" "It happens more often than you'd think," I said. "No wonder you shoot people and blow up things," he said. "That is no way to live.

Maryse stared. "You hear her, too?" Luc grimaced. "Unfortunately. Why do you think I looked behind you when

Ida Belle grabbed the purse, her arms dropping a bit, then set it on the coffee table. I leaned over as she pulled out a small retail store. Nine-

It was okay though," Gertie said. "Jeb said she wasn't a pleasant woman anyway, so we vacuumed the rug and deposited her in the flower bed out front." "I was beginning to question why we're friends when you told us about the lights," I said. "But you sort of redeemed the whole thing with the efficient flower bed disposal part of the story." "I'm guessing Jeb's mother might feel differently," Ida Belle said.

into some odd business concerning Gilbert Forrest.

A traditional mystery is a whodunit, whereas a thriller is a how-can-we-stop-them-from-doing-it. As you compare these seemingly opposite subgenres in Figure 1.1, you'll note that although they differ in essential ways, they share a fundamental element—the use of suspense.

Do you believe in love at first sight? Or do I need to walk past again?

Had her brother lived to face a trial, Asia surely would have been charged, for Booth used her home as a safe house, taught her the Confederate cipher code and entrusted her with papers

was held captive in my home. I should have told the soldiers who came with guns drawn and bayonets at the ready this true thing: I might have stopped him, for I harbored him and kept his secrets. I was a pie safe locked tight and guilty as he. ——— Asia Booth Clarke was thirty years old and pregnant with her first child when Union soldiers and Federal detectives stormed her Maryland home in search of her assassin-brother.

What in the name of a thousand ghouls were you doing in that miserable café?

I tried to avoid looking at the skull, but somehow I wanted to keep checking that it was still there. It's like when you have a sore in your mouth or tooth ache – your tongue keeps going back to check it still hurts.

Aren't hidden doors the most alluring? The old stories point that out surely. Even the greatest heroes and heroines fall under the spell of a locked door.