Page 39 Quotes

“...stop throwing him out the window...They are expensive to replace and the noise might disturbe neighbors.”
― Tamara Summers, Never Bite a Boy on the First Date

“Meanwhile it's got stormy, the tattered fog even thicker, chasing across my path. Three people are sitting in a glassy tourist cafe between clouds and clouds, protected by glass from all sides. Since I don't see any waiters, it crosses my mind that corpses have been sitting there for weeks, statuesque. All this time the cafe has been unattended, for sure. Just how long have they been sitting here, petrified like this?”
― Werner Herzog, Of Walking in Ice

“The air was cool, and filled with the twittering of birds. Above the mountains the pale sky shone pink.”
― Bernhard Schlink, The Reader

“Wrap it in newspapers and pack it at the very bottom of the trunk, my dear. With the other curiosities.”
― Donna Tartt

“One can never truly master the art of driving, because no journey is ever exactly the same.”
― Neal Shusterman, Thunderhead

“Off guard for a moment, his face expressed clearly his feelings. “Good Lord,” said Mrs. Bantry to herself, “the man adores her.”
― Agatha Christie, The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side

“Again she shot a quick surreptitious glance at Jason Rudd. He was not scowling now. Instead he was smiling, a sudden very sweet and unexpected smile, but it was a sad smile.”
― Agatha Christie, The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side

“Fred is active, energetic, impatient of confinement. When he’s in a library he likes to range through the stacks finding the books he wants, and coming across others he hadn’t known about.”
― Alison Lurie, Foreign Affairs

“Instead she had force, brains, a cool clear intelligence and he had no idea what she was thinking of him. He thought: She’s not an easy person to deceive.”
― Agatha Christie, Murder Is Easy

“The doctor did not need to speak. His face, the silence in the room, the X-rays and test results spread across his desk said it all. The two men sat facing each other in the smartly furnished office at the bottom end of Harley Street and knew that they had reached the final act of a drama that had been played out many times before. Six weeks ago, they hadn’t even known each other. Now they were united in the most intimate way of all. One had given the news. The other had received it. Neither of them allowed very much emotion to show in their face. It was part of the procedure, a gentlemen’s agreement, that they should do their best to conceal it.”
― Anthony Horowitz, Magpie Murders