Quotes About Mystery

Javonen smiled - very slightly. Call it a down payment on a smile.

A rua estava escura de qualquer coisa mais que a noite.

I'm not Sherlock Holmes or Philo Vance. I don't expect to go over ground the police have covered and pick up a broken pen point and build a case from it. If you think there is anybody in the detective business making a living doing that sort of thing, you don't know much about cops.

He looked at the corner of the ceiling with an absent stare. I looked at him with a not so absent stare. He looked like a man who could be trusted with a secret—if it was his own secret.

Then I sat there holding the neck of the cool bottle and wondering how it would feel to be a homicide dick and find bodies lying around and not mind at all, not have to sneak out wiping doorknobs, not have to ponder how much I could tell without hurting a client and how little I could tell without too badly hurting myself. I decided I wouldn't like it.

You can't tell anything by my voice. I'm a detective. Heard from him how?

him." I said: "Nerts! You seem to forget I know why Lou was killed." Beasley sat up in his chair and moved his right hand

Era rubia. Pero qué rubia. Cualquier obispo haría un agujero en una vidriera para verla

mat. A case of false teeth hung on the mustard-colored wall like a fuse box in a screen porch.

You're as cold-blooded a beast as I ever met, Marlowe. Or can I call you Phil?" "Sure." "You can call me Vivian." "Thanks, Mrs. Regan." "Oh, go to hell, Marlowe." She went on out and didn't look back.

I went over to a floor lamp and pulled the switch, went back to put off the ceiling light, and went across the room again to the chessboard on a card table under the lamp. There was a problem laid out on the board, a six-mover. I couldn't solve it, like a lot of my problems.

He stared at me and his left hand began to edge towards the gun. He belonged to the Wandering Hand Society. The girls would have had a time with him.

She leaned back and a pulse beat in her throat. She was exquisite, she was dark, she was deadly. And nothing would ever touch her, not even the law.

I'm beginning to get it," I said slowly. "Take a family like yours and somebody in it has to be the dark meat.

Go on," he said, in a voice the size of a marble.

She went out slowly. The way she did it hadn't been learned at business college.

Chandler's first book is famously incoherent

thinking. Maybe it would be better if you called the police." "Call them yourself. I haven't anything to tell then." "You want me to?

then Malloy took the gun away from whoever did it.

The main hallway looked just the same. The portrait over the mantel had the same hot black eyes and the knight in the stained-glass window still wasn't getting anywhere untying the naked damsel from the tree.

I love a question I can't answer. It keeps things interesting, even after so many years.

Come you near or go you far, light from candle or flick'ring star? See what you will, or so you think, but is water sweet before you drink? Who can know of truth and lies? When can a man believe his eyes? Suspect what's known to mortal senses, for our nature vaults all mystic fences, that stand between that which is and seems, and back we are to truth ... or dreams.

Of course we'll be there." After Amos left, Ghuda shook his head. In a sour tone he muttered, "Why are we going to Crydee, Ghuda? I haven't the vaguest idea, Ghuda. Shall we go find Nakor, Ghuda? Certainly, Ghuda. Then shall we strangle him, Ghuda?" With a single nod of his head, he answered himself, "With great delight, Ghuda.

The inheritor to the man tie of Macros.