“But, surely,” insisted Penny, “people attend film school in order to find out about the world.”
Trent Bendix, Patricia Knows Best.
“A professional writer, writing. How perfectly awful.” Harry’s thoughts were dismal on a shining summer day.
Thaddeus Crewes, Crowded Evil World.
We can neither know nor remember routine collisions between molecules.
Kendall Landover, The Ferocity of the Daffodils.
“That’s just rudimentary thermodynamics, Brenda. Just theory. Do I believe in it? Well, yes. Every other Thursday.”
Trent Bendix, The Dejected Bird.
Be wary of that culture in which proof of one’s existence seems necessary. “I blink, therefore I am.” Or: “I sink, therefore I am.”
Tyrone Sommer, Circling the Drain.
…Enders thought—indeed the whole department thought—that the same guy killed both the racetrack girl and Mrs. Krycki. I asked the lieutenant for the relevant names. He had none. It all happened thirty years ago.
Gilbert McFadden, A Murder in Three Parts.
“Someone stuck a dirty book under some gal’s door. Ellis got the blame.”
Grace Philippi, The Bliss City Murders.
“What is history, compared with someone’s personal feelings?” Christopher presented the question at face value. No sarcasm necessary.
Kiefer Sythe, The Detective Club.
A tear streamed down his cheek and off his chin and onto a dusty patch of floor.
Jed Honneger, The Barca Boys.
Bomb: a form of self-expression.
Clive Morrow, A Crustacean’s Dictionary.
