Stanley Wheeler

“I kept watching those pliable lips to see if they would speak again, but she didn’t say anymore. It’s a rare thing that, a dame who won’t tell you more than you want to know. I could tell there was something special about her. But I was troubled…troubled by the thought that she had a husband…and that she wanted me to find him.”
― Stanley Wheeler, Smoke

“I’d seen men siphon gasoline with less effort than she put into draining that Chesterfield; she didn’t let any of it go to waste. That cigarette knew that it had been smoked, smoked to the bitter end.”
― Stanley Wheeler, Smoke

“there was something intelligent…and slightly terrifying behind those eyes. But it was the sort of terrifying that begged to be explored, like a book with an interesting title. She was one of those titles that, once you had seen it, called for you to thumb through the pages to read a paragraph here and there; before you knew it, you were marching in obedient lockstep with the lines of print as they led you to battle the demons of the writer’s tormented soul.”
― Stanley Wheeler, Smoke

“Unfortunately, I could tell that she was not the kind of girl to introduce herself with a kiss.”
― Stanley Wheeler, Smoke