Writers are diffident creatures -- they need encouragement.

Ideas are like everything else. They've got to be marketed.

Very unfortunately, she had no husband. She had never had a husband, and therefore did not kill a husband.

I looked at her. Sheila was my girl--the girl I wanted--and wanted for keeps. But it wasn't any use having illusions about her. Sheila was a liar and probably always would be a liar. It was her way of fighting for survival--the quick easy glib denial. It was a child's weapon--and she'd probably never got out of using it. If I wanted Sheila, I must accept her as she was--be at hand to prop up the weak places. We've all got our weak places. Mine were different from Sheila's, but they were there.

lawyers never go to law, do they? They know better.

Men don't understand how their mannerisms can get on women's nerves so that you feel you just have to snap.

When the sea goes down, there will come from the mainland boats and men. And they will find ten dead bodies and an unsolved problem on Indian Island.