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As you may have gathered by reading my Cursed Table Caper blog posts (3/11 &3/18/18) I’m a fan of Noir. And when it comes to Noir, Raymond Chandler was a master, perhaps the master, and the man who made all other writers of the genre that much better––or envious. Chandler could toss one-liners like the ace on a baseball team tossed pitches––hard and fast. Here’s some of his best that I’ve read and now share with you. Enjoy! As always, thanks for stopping by.

In General:

Dead men are heavier than broken hearts.

–The streets were dark with something more than night.

–When in doubt, have a man come through the door with a gun in his hand.

–A city ( Los Angeles) with all the personality of a paper cup.

–The corridor which led to it had a smell of old carpet and furniture oil, and the drab anonymity of a thousand shabby lives.

–The voice got as cool as a cafeteria dinner.

–On the dance floor, half a dozen couples were throwing themselves around with the reckless abandon of a night watchman with arthritis.

On Women:

–She gave me a smile I could feel in my hip pocket.

–From thirty feet away, she looked like a lot of class. From ten feet away, she looked like something made up to be seen from thirty feet away.

–It was a blond. A blond to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window.

–She was as cute as a washtub.

–The girl slept on, motionless, in that curled-up looseness achieved by some women and all cats.

–“Please don’t get up,” she said in a voice like the stuff they use to line summer clouds with.

–She smelled the way the Taj Mahal looks by moonlight.

On Booze:

–I’m an occasional drinker, the kind of guy who goes out for a beer and wakes up in Singapore with a full beard.

–Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is intimate, the third is routine. After that you take the girl’s clothes off.

On Men:

–He looked as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food.

–He had a battered face that looked as if it had been hit by everything but the bucket of a dragline.

–His smile was as stiff as a frozen fish.

–The kid’s face had as much expression as a cut of round steak, and was about the same color.

On Self (Marlowe):

–I was neat, clean, shaved, and sober and I didn’t care who knew it.

–I felt like an amputated leg.

–The detective must be a complete man and a common man, and yet an unusual man.

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