“What is their attitude toward lying?” said Michael in a low voice. “Always ask yourself that.”
Everson Dwight, Theory of Machines, a Novel.
“You might well be a professor, Colin. But you are nothing but a punk to me.”
Ruth Ledgerwood, Death by Logic.
“Every now and then, our Emily would engage in a somewhat theatrical attempt at thinking. To the astonishment of all.”
Will Bestwyck, Letters From Mr. Palindrome.
“Nothing really gets clean,” said Mrs. Crenshaw. “That is our biggest illusion, dear.”
Alberta Traywick, Susannah’s Accident.
Comedy: a slow steady erasure of taboo.
Nathaniel Bumppo, The Final Word.
…it all goeth to wracke, sir!
Talbot Hewes, Paulina’s Pryde. (1590)
Priscilla Fanning, Fragments From the Elizabethan Stage.
“The answer to your question, Hodges, is yes. The answer is the word yes.“
Augustus Bligh, Crawlspace.
“Not even a dog barked,” moaned Lauderdale to himself. “Just think of it. Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Georgina Hickes, An Ornamental Murder.
“I believe you will come around to my way of thinking, George. To the Wittgensteinian way of thinking.”
Giles Coxe-Coburn, Tooth and Claw.
He knew how to construct sentences. Oh, absolutely. But what kind of sentences, Maggie?
Will Davies, She Would If She Could.
