“As was the case one hour ago and one year ago, Inspector, you know nothing about me.”
Ellen Entwhistle, The Caravan Murders.
Writing literary messages to the society at large is not work, but frivolity. And the question concerning the comparative value of these “messages” is itself intractable.
James Timothy, Points in Time.
“We are just fortunate that he writes down words,” said Fortnam. “So that we have the opportunity to read them.”
Thaddeus Crewes, Crowded Evil World.
“It is easy to be interesting,” said Joshua in an oddly chiding tone.
Miles Atwater, Another Sad Mortimer.
They perceived the need to say certain things (liturgy) in a language that was unconnected to the day’s commerce, to gossip, or to the many forms of nastiness.
Gilbert Dollarhide, The Toil and the Trouble.
In the 1970s, we seem to have decided that the preferences of a spoiled sixteen-year-old were an adequate foundation for a culture.
Anthony Scowling, The Beat Paradigm.
“We,” said Lord Claridge, “are those fish who go willingly into the barrel.”
Seth Palingroom, The Philosophies of Cultural Exhaustion.
If the hat didn’t fit the corpse, then everything didn’t fit.
Mildred Cummings, Murder and Poetry.
“The way that it was. In those days. At that time.”
Delbert Arbogast, The Null Hypothesis and Other Stories.
Benton was on again about the “asymptotic approach to nothingness.”
Giles Coxe-Coburn, Tooth and Claw.
dennis scharnberg 