Whenever Mr. Dudley found himself using the word “molecule” in his conversation, he would quickly remind himself (and anyone who could hear him) that this was just the theory, you see. Just the theory.
Michael Longmire, Puzzled to Death.
“Facts don’t work, Bobby. Not any more.”
Diana Moone, Living Well.
“To be delusional,” said Alex to no one in particular, “one must be intelligent.”
Chadwick Graves, One Damned Thing After Another.
prophetable
Andrew Tertullian, Pandora’s Ponderous Puns.
“I don’t want to know too much about it,” said Meadows. “Knowing can get in the way.”
Jeremy Malking, The Anechoic Chamber: Stories.
“First,” declared Mr. Humboldt, “we select the conclusion that pleases us. Then, we work backward from there.”
Benedict Elder, A Cosmopolitan Paradise.
Which is more intelligent, the host population or the parasite population?
Titus Musgrave, The Mystery of Sleep.
“It is the bank’s fault for being robbed. There is simply too much money there. Let’s put it that way, Andrew.”
Beatrice Landers, The Case of the Disappearing Detective.
“Everything exhibits order,” claimed Evans. “At all levels of reality, and at all times. Chaos is just a clever idea.“
Anselm Bligh, A Collection of Miniatures.
“Loose pearls scattering across the floor, Ellen? Now that is an awful thing.”
Priscilla Onkers, All About Edward.
