dennis scharnberg

At one point in the evening, Edwin seems to have been thrust into a cupboard.

Ellen Entwhistle, The Caravan Murders.

God does not change.  We need to consider the many implications of this fact.

Anne Skirrtel,  The Night of Time.

Gwen imagines herself standing backstage, after the play.  She finds the male lead and says: “Oh!  Thank you, sir, for delivering your lines with such conviction!”

Miles Atwater, Another Sad Mortimer.

“Could you please show how Marriott’s assertion is convincing?” Edgar demanded.  But Oliver was unable to do it.  It seems that accepting the assertion just made things so much more interesting for him.

Giles Coxe-Coburn, Belief in Insects.

“What were your activities on the evening of November first?” demanded Lieutenant Cowgher.  “I was wearing my shoes, sir,” replied Bradford, displaying an almost formal grin.

Clive Ennis, The Case of the Broken Handle.

—“But why did Elizabeth lie?”

—“She’s a liar.  It is her job to lie.”

Trent Bendix, The Dejected Bird.

The old way—an old expression, for example—cannot work.  It is simply unable to satisfy our new and unparalleled sophistication.  (Poor Shakespeare.  He could never have dreamed that we might arrive.)

Clifford O. Mounce, A Portable Darkness.

“No, no.  Palmer doesn’t wish to be a genius.  I doubt that he ever did.  No, he wants to be seen as a genius.  That is the thing.”

Stephanie Biggers, Cat Farming in Nigeria.

“It could be worse,” said Algernon.  “It can always be worse.”

Allison Cowling, Night of the Detective.

Old Eileen simply could not be dissembling.  Even if she wanted to be.  And, by today’s standards, that makes her hopelessly uninteresting.

Grayling Scott, An Inventory of Characters.