#detective

It's a very, very fascinating story for me, cause it's about a man who's been doing bad; bad things. And he's a father of four children in parochial school, he's a lieutenant of detectives, but he's in conflict with himself and with trying to do what's right. ↗

— Harvey Keitel

#bad #been #cause #children #conflict

As music migrates into our iPods, CD collections require less and less room, residing in our heads rather than resounding off the walls. The protracted labor of amassing a personal music library has lost its detective zeal. ↗

— James Wolcott

#collections #detective #heads #into #labor

A smile is hidden beneath the mustache, it crinkles the corners of his hooded eyes. “I didn’t. I have other business in town and I told my friend I would attend to the matter of his son, as he could not do so himself.” “Very kind of you.” “Yes. I have been looking forward to it for quite some time.” Daddy’s lemonade is almost gone, he sips it carefully, turning his eyes back to the water. “Looking forward to seeing the lad or to conducting your business?” Daddy is toying with him. “Both. You see, I had never actually met his son.” The glass rests against Daddy’s lips, unmoving. Mr. Geyer watches him closely. “But now I have, so I can get on with my,” he fixes his own gaze on the water, as though trying to see whatever it is that has transfixed my father, “business. ↗

— Gwenn Wright

#detective #geyer #gwenn-wright #historical-fiction #mystery

Lady Sylvia McCordle: Mr Weissman -- Tell us about the film you're going to make. Morris Weissman: Oh, sure. It's called "Charlie Chan In London". It's a detective story. Mabel Nesbitt: Set in London? Morris Weissman: Well, not really. Most of it takes place at a shooting party in a country house. Sort of like this one, actually. Murder in the middle of the night, a lot of guests for the weekend, everyone's a suspect. You know, that sort of thing. Constance: How horrid. And who turns out to have done it? Morris Weissman: Oh, I couldn't tell you that. It would spoil it for you. Constance: Oh, but none of us will see it. ↗

— Julian Fellowes

#detective-stories #film-industry #humor #movie-business #movies

Make no mistake, Elphaba, Goddess Magick was potent in the old days. During the Dark Ages the Catholic Church had their hands full fighting it. Unfortunately, in large measure the Church won that war, relegating Wicca, Druidism and the rest to the fringes of society. With vastly weakened power.” “Except yours, Nick.” “I’ve always been a special case, Elphaba,” Nick explained. “Even though I began my career as an alchemist, I soon turned away from that practice and forged my own path. I uncovered my own secrets and kept them secret. That’s how I was able to maintain my power for so long. ↗

— Abramelin Keldor

#paranormal #age

When a beautiful blonde asks, you don't say no. ↗

— V.T. Davy

#channel #crime #detective #hard-boiled #islands

You don’t rewrite it, censor it, or edit it, to suit some warped view you have of the past and your own present. ↗

— V.T. Davy

#censor #channel #crime #detective #edit

Nick pulled a business card out of a pocket and handed it to Elphaba. It read Nicholas Lynch, Inspector, Ministry of Magick, next to a moving image of Nick, mugging for the camera. “I finally get to use my Harry Potter business cards! ↗

— Abramelin Keldor

#paranormal #business

Elphaba’s face darkened again. Then she asked, hesitantly, as if afraid of the answer, “So, how do you get the evil life force?” “From innocent people, Elphaba,” Nick spoke so quietly he almost whispered. “I must draw the life force from innocent people. The more innocent they are, the more evil the murder is.” Elphaba jerked as though a shock had struck her in the heart. “Oh, that’s terrible!” “Yes, it is. Terrible. That word doesn’t even do it justice, terrible. There is no Magick more terrible than Magick that cheats death. I have cheated death, and death extracts its price.” Elphaba silently looked at Nick, her expression of revulsion enough to communicate her feelings. “You shouldn’t act so surprised, malyutka,” Nick said softly. “It is who I am. And it’s worked for me for centuries.” Elphaba sat for a moment, trying to calm herself. “Yes, you’re right. I knew that part of you was a monster. Sometimes it’s easy to forget, since you seem to be such a decent guy.” “Lyches are monsters. ↗

— Abramelin Keldor

#paranormal #communication

I pulled the MG in beside him at the curb and he got in. "This thing ain't big enough for either one of us," he said. "When you getting something that fits?" "It goes with my preppy look," I said. "You get one of these, they let you drive around the north shore, watch polo, anything you want." I let the clutch in and turned right on Dartmouth. "How you get laid in one of these?" Hawk said. "You just don't understand preppy," I said. "I know it's not your fault. You're only a couple generations out of the jungle. I realize that. But if you're preppy you don't get laid in a car." "Where do you get laid if you preppy?" I sniffed. "One doesn't," I said. "Preppies gonna be outnumbered in a while," Hawk said. ↗

— Robert B. Parker

#hawk #humor #preppies #spenser #humor