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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #detective
Terrible accident; body parts was everywhere—-fingers, toes, wings, beaks. Ambulance people tried to scoop him all up, but apparently it ain’t so easy as you might think—telling a chicken from a Chinaman, I mean. Anyways, they got his weight off his driver’s license, picked up a hundred and thirty pounds of pieces and buried ‘em. Now his wife come every year 'bout this time to pay her respects. We don't serve chicken while she's here. Hope you ain't got a taste for it. ↗
It's very good of you--" "No, no, not at all. It's my hobby. Not proposing to people, I don't mean, but investigating things. Well, cheer-frightfully-ho and all that. And I'll call again, if I may." "I will give the footman orders to admit you," said the prisoner, gravely, "you will always find me at home. ↗
You have the Answer. Just get quiet enough to hear it. ~Pat Obuchowski ↗
#crime-thriller #detective-stories #forensics #los-angeles #mystery-series
I stole a bit of a chopped vegetable and was about to put it in my mouth when Jae’s long fingers closed over my wrist. “What? You can’t eat this raw?” “It’s bitter melon. You won’t like it.” He went into the fridge and came out with something that looked halfway familiar. “Here, leftover bao. There’s char siu inside.” “The red pork stuff? Yeah, I like that. I thought it was Chinese.” “It is. We also eat hamburgers and spaghetti. ↗
How about the wrong crowd," I said. "You getting in with them?" "Not much luck," Paul said. "I'm trying like hell, but the wrong crowd doesn't seem to want me." "Don't quit," I said. "You want something, you go after it. I was nearly thirty-five before I could get in with wrong crowd. ↗
I don't take much stock of detectives in novels - chaps that do things and never let you see how they do them. That's just inspiration: not business. ↗
#chaps #detective-novels #inspector-alec-mandonald #inspiration #business
There is no mystery to happiness. Unhappy men are all alike. Some wound they suffered long ago, some wish denied, some blow to pride, some kindling spark of love put out by scorn -- or worse, indifference -- cleaves to them, or they to it, and so they live each day within a shroud of yesterdays. The happy man dies not look back. He doesn't look ahead. He lives in the present. ↗
