Downtown, a dress for Meg- I do it every time I kill a man.
Don’t be so goddamn proper. Don’t be such a fucking saint.
All I want to do is make serious movies that explore social issues and turn a profit, and slip the schnitzel to Jane DePugh.
My dad was always snoozing on the couch, like Dagwood Bumstead. He was a lazy motherfucker. God bless him. He was always working on some kind of get-rich-quick scheme. This is what my dad was like: I'...
Where’s your sketch pad? I asked.… I gave that up, Kay said. I wasn’t very good, so I changed my major.To what?To pre-med, then psychology, then English lit, then history.I like a woman who knows what...
If it would’ve been me, I would’ve left Hutch out of it. ’Cause Hutch, he was mean.
I am the most well-adjusted human being I know. I started out this investigation as a very happy man with a great career. I've got the life people dream about: I am rich, I am famous, I've got a fabul...
Pulling away, I realized I had no place to go and nothing I wanted to do except satisfy my curiosity about a woman who was coming on like gangbusters and a big load of grief.
Epidemic boo-hoo — ‘DON’T TELL MY WIFE!’ Leg-shackle clangs — the prostie vans shook…Panic down below: Shriners bagged en masse. Five men, fez hats flying — a whore grabbed one and pranced.
Bissell fingered his napkin. I do, Mr. Boyd. And I know how generous Mr. Hoffa, Mr. Marcello and a few other Italian gentlemen have been to the Cause, and I know that you possess a certain amount of i...
Big D. November '63. He was there that Big Weekend. He caught the Big Moment and took this Big Ride. He was a sergeant on Vegas PD. He was married. He had a chemistry degree. His father was a big Morm...
1:52 a.m. His favorite nightcap—coffee and Benzedrine.
Bons mots
The spook pimp was up. The spook pimp was de-O’d and revived. He bossed his whores around. He made his whores strip. He made his whores hop on three tables. They linked up. They performed table tricks...
I indulge prayer when the world seems incomprehensible and only a plea to the incomprehensible makes sense.
I had chewed a big steak two hours before, swallowing the juice and spitting out the meat, and I could smell animal blood in my sweat.
He wore piss-poor lime cologne. He sucked a hide-the-hooch lozenge.
Envy thou not the oppressor, And choose none of his ways. —Proverbs 3:31
Elmer was scared. He ran a call-girl ring. He peddled flesh to the L.A. elite. He made biz calls from the Vice squadroom.
Books and I went back. My old man taught me to read at age three-and-a-half. I bloomed into a classic only child/child-of-divorce autodidact.