I've been as bad an influence on American literature as anyone I can think of.

...What disturbed him was the discovery that in sensibly ordering his affairs he had got out of step, and not into step, with Life.

It's sometimes better to pretend I don't hear the sound of somebody in the nearby woods with a shotgun.

Who shot him? I asked. The grey man scratched the back of his neck and said: Somebody with a gun.

The face she made at me was probably meant for a smile. Whatever it was, it beat me. I was afraid she'd do it again, so I surrendered

She grinned at me. 'You got types?' 'Only you darling - lanky brunettes with wicked jaws.

Listen, darling, tomorrow I'll buy you a whole lot of detective stories, but don't worry your pretty little head over mysteries tonight.