It's Awfully Easy To Be In Love

Samuel Spade's Jaw Was Long And Bony, His Chin A Jutting V Under The More Flexible V Of His Mouth. His Nostrils Curved Back To Make Another, Smaller, V. His Yellow-grey Eyes Were Horizontal. The V Motif Was Picked Up Again By Thickish Brows Rising Outward From Twin Creases Above A Hooked Nose, And His Pale Brown Hair Grew Down--from High Flat Temples--in A Point On His Forehead. He Looked Rather Pleasantly Like A Blond Satan.

You Don't Pay A Prostitute For Sex, You Pay Her To Leave Afterwards.

With What Dope I Got I Think It Fills Me In Pretty Well.

What I Try To Do Is Write A Story About A Detective Rather Than A Detective Story. Keeping The Reader Fooled Until The Last, Possible Moment Is A Good Trick And I Usually Try To Play It, But I Can't Attach More Than Secondary Importance To It. The Puzzle Isn't So Interesting To Me As The Behavior Of The Detective Attacking It.

I Haven't Laughed So Much Over Anything Since The Hogs Ate My Kid Brother.