“I’ll never forget this for the rest of my life,” the on-site reporter declared. “I’ll never forget anything for the rest of my life,” thought I.
Carson Drew, The Case of the Purloined Tiger.
“They look better as ruins,” insisted Dr. Talbot. “We would never come to appreciate them if they had survived intact.”
Hollis Beddoes, Counting the Magpies.
“Of the two, opportunity is the only objective—or verifiable—matter. Motive is often absurdly subjective….”
Allison Cowling, Night of the Detective.
In the card games, I am usually quick to fold, so I can sit back and watch the others. I mean watch their idiosyncrasies on display. What I think of as their “nonsense”.
Roger Boylan, ed., The Diary of Darius William Dunne.
“I’m telling you Angie, if that is poetry I will swallow a sock. Right now. But you say that Dylan calls it poetry. Well okay then, I suppose it must be so. After all, who could possibly know better than that little weasel?”
Angela Unseld, ed., Letters from Uncle Hal.
The Ledger of Wheel and Woe.
Andrew Tertullian, Pandora’s Ponderous Puns.
“Those Indians, they will hide under your bed,” warned Old Man Davy. “And they will wait, patiently, for you to fall asleep. And then they will inch their way out, and they will stand over you, and stare down at you in the darkness. And that’s all bad enough. But then they will take out their hatchet, and they will scalp you! And that is why young boys should never fall asleep.”
Miles Bantry, ed., Mr. Roode’s Rustic Tales.
“Do not offer advice, Desmond. Not ever. Not to anyone, at any time. Not a soul!”
Chase Tipton, Enjoying Prison Pizza.
He tried hard,
He tried soft.
He sits now, sulking,
In a loft.
E. E. Bynum, A Thump on the Head (and Other Poems).
“I don’t want anything, Carla. Do you hear me? I do not want.”
Allison Cowling, Night of the Detective.
dennis scharnberg 