Nancy Drew Quotes

“Read, read, read. That's all I can say.”
― Carolyn Keene, The Secret of the Old Clock

“Strauss! Oh yes, he was so-so. He wrote pretty music- The Blue Danube and Tales from the Vienna Woods. But what is that compared to Mozart?'

Suddenly, Bess and George spotted Nancy coming towards them. 'Nancy!' the cousins chimed simultaneously and raced toward her.

'I see our bus driver is still at it.' Nancy grinned.

'All the way from Salzburg." George groaned.

'Did he run off the road again?'

'Not once but many times,' Bess said. 'It was awful. Once he got so angry because someone compared Beethoven to Mozart that he actually stopped the bus, ran outside, and shouted into the valley, Beethoven is a bore. Mozart is sublime. Over and over. The professor had to go out and drag him back to the bus.”
― Carolyn Keene, Captive Witness

“Then she began to quote from Shakespeare:
‘But love is blind, and lovers
cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves
commit.”
― Carolyn Keene, Nancy's Mysterious Letter

“brushing her hair until it snapped with electricity”
― Carolyn Keene, The Bungalow Mystery

“Gutterman's face flushed beet-red. "Oh, is that so?" he snarled. "We'll see how impressed you are when we start questioning you."
"Oh, please don't question us," Ned cried mockingly.”
― Carolyn Keene, Captive Witness

“Bess laughed. Then she put on an elaborately casual tone of voice. "Did I tell you Tommy and I are going out alone tonight? Without anyone else?"
You mean, like on a date?" George asked.
"Not like a date!" Bess corrected her. "It is a date. Our first official one. All the others involved casts of thousands." Smiling smugly, she continued to rub sunscreen onto her arms.”
― Carolyn Keene, Portrait in Crime

“By the way, where do these nature people get their food?" Nancy queried. "They can't live on blue sky and inspiration.”
― Carolyn Keene

“Gutterman waved his hand, carelessly dismissing the insult. "You can't hurt my feelings, Miss Drew. I abandoned them years ago.”
― Carolyn Keene, Captive Witness