[T]he success of every novel -- if it's a novel of action -- depends on the high spots. The thing to do is to say to yourself, What are my big scenes? and then get every drop of juice out of them.
It is the bungled crime that brings remorse.
The true philosopher is a man who says All right, and goes to sleep in his armchair.
He looked haggard and careworn, like a Borgia who has suddenly remembered that he has forgotten to shove cyanide in the consommé, and the dinner-gong due any moment.
A melancholy-looking man, he had the appearance of one who has searched for the leak in life's gas-pipe with a lighted candle.
There was something sort of bleak about her tone, rather as if she had swallowed an east wind. This I took to be due to the fact that she probably hadn't breakfasted. It's only after a bit of breakfas...
How anybody can compose a story by word of mouth face to face with a bored-looking secretary with a notebook is more than I can imagine. Yet many authors think nothing of saying, 'Ready, Miss Spelvin?...
The principle I always go on in writing a novel is to think of the characters in terms of actors in a play. I say to myself, if a big name were playing this part, and if he found that after a strong f...
If there is one thing I dislike, it is the man who tries to air his grievances when I wish to air mine.
His spirit was willing, but his will was not spirited.
He's such a dear, Mr. Garnet. A beautiful, pure, bred Persian. He has taken prizes.He's always taking something - generally food.
A chap's bedroom – you can't get way from it – is his castle, and he has every right to look askance if gargoyles come glaring in at him.
As for Gussie Finknottle, many an experienced undertaker would have been deceived by his appearance and started embalming on sight.
Employers are like horses — they require management.
This is the age of the specialist, and years ago Rollo had settled on his career. Even as a boy, hardly capable of connected thought, he had been convinced that his speciality, the one thing he could...
The club book was never intended to be light and titillated reading for the members. Its function is solely to acquaint those who are contemplating taking new posts with the foibles of prospective emp...
The Problem of Life seemed to him to be solved. He looked on down the years, and he could see no troubles there of any kind whatsoever. Reason suggested that there were probably one or two knocking ab...
Lady Kimbuck gave tongue. She was Lord Evenwood's sister. She spent a very happy widowhood interfering in the affairs of the various branches of her family.
I am not always good and noble. I am the hero of this story, but I have my off moments.
Her eye was aflame, and she spoke like Cleopatra telling an Ethiopian slave where he got off.