He was a guy who talked with commas, like a heavy novel. Over the phone anyway.
His voice was the elaborately casual voice of the tough guy in pictures. Pictures have made them all like that.
When you're reading a good noir, the shocks and twists have a way of feeling deja vu-like, as if you saw them coming, but hoped the characters would take a left turn... not answer the phone, not sleep...
The Filipino houseboy was conscious now
And then, with a shock like high-voltage coursing through me, the phone beside me started pealing thinly.I just stood there and stared at it, blood draining from my face. A call to a tollbooth? It mus...
It's time to end the brain drain and move to brain gain. It's time for a great mind of Nigeria to return home. You're the mind we need, Doctor.
I ripped all her clothes off. She twisted and turned, slow, so they would slip out from under her. Then she closed her eyes and lay back on the pillow. Her hair was falling over her shoulders in snaky...
Evans made himself their spokesman. Charlie and Joe, he offered. Remember us? We brought a friend back with us this time. Girls evidently didn't count in this little subdivision of the underworld; a m...
So that's the way you scientific detectives work. My god! for a fat, middle-aged, hard-boiled, pig-headed guy, you've got the vaguest way of doing things I ever heard of.
The struggle doesn't last long; it's too unequal. Their momentary surprise overcome, they close in on him. The well-directed slice of a gun-butt slackens the good arm; it's easy to pry the disabled on...
[after Sammy struggles to unhook Stilton's bra]She rolled onto her face to give him a good shot at the hook in the back. Free my people!I will. I am the Harriet Tubman of your breasts.
Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.
I loved her like a rabbit loves a rattlesnake
One of the crazies moved into the cone of light beneath a streetlight. It was a black man, high-stepping and making jerking movements with his arms. He made a crisp turn and began moving back into the...
He was dignity distorted, bravery become knavery, sanctimoniousness masking sin. He was a mirror, jeering at the subject it reflected. Yet so muted were the jeers, so delicate the inaccuracies of deli...
He looked as if he'd got a lot of pleasure out of going ten rounds with your grandmother and making sure she went the whole distance.
You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that, oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastin...
He always carried the feeling that he was struggling toward some kind of resolution and knowledge of purpose. That there was something good in him or about him. It was the waiting that was so hard. Th...
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