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

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

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

To get what he wanted, a man had to give other people what they wanted.

Listen, Dundy, it's been a long time since I burst into tears because a policeman didn't like me.

The cheaper the crook, the gaudier the patter.

I couldn't be fonder of you if you were my own son. But, well, if you lose a son, its possible to get another. There's only one Maltese Falcon.