Laura

Laura quotes

60 total quotes (ID: 786)

Anne Treadwell
Det. Lt. Mark McPherson
Laura Hunt
Shelby Carpenter
Waldo Lydecker


Lydecker: Well, McPherson, what does Laura's resurrection do to you?
McPherson: Too bad Diane Redfern can't be resurrected.


[to Laura] Young woman, either you have been raised in some incredibly rustic community where good manners are unknown or you suffer from the common feminine delusion that the mere fact of being a woman exempts you from the rules of civilized conduct, or possibly both.

I know you'll have to visit everyone on your list of suspects. I like to study their reactions.

McPherson: Were you in love with Laura Hunt, Mr. Lydecker? Was she in love with you?
Lydecker: Laura considered me the wisest, the wittiest, the most interesting man she'd ever met. And I was in complete accord with her on that point. She thought me also the kindest, the gentlest, the most sympathetic man in the world.
McPherson: Did you agree with her there, too?
Lydecker: McPherson, you won't understand this. But I tried to become the kindest, the gentlest, the most sympathetic man in the world.
McPherson: Have any luck?
Lydecker: Let me put it this way. I should be sincerely sorry to see my neighbors' children devoured by wolves. Shall we go?

If you know anything about faces, look at mine. How singularly innocent I look this morning. Have you ever seen such candid eyes?

McPherson: The main thing I want to know is why you pulled that switch on me about Carpenter. You told me last night you decided not to marry him.
Laura: Yes, I guess I did.
McPherson: But today, it was on again. Why?
Laura: Well, I-I changed my mind.
McPherson: What are you trying to hide? Don't you realize you're involved in a murder? You've got yourself in a jam that's not gonna be easy to get out of unless you're on the level with me. This is no time for secrets. Now, did you really decide to call it off? Or did you just tell me that because you knew I wanted to hear it. What went on between you and Carpenter when you saw him last night? Did he persuade you to make up? Or did you agree to pretend you had? Was that it?
Laura: Well, we, that is, both of us ---
McPherson: He convinced you that if you broke the engagement now, people would think you believed he was guilty.
Laura: Yes. But now I know it was only because he thought I was.
McPherson: Did you believe he was guilty?
Laura: No, I'm sure he isn't. But he'd gotten himself into an awfully suspicious position. And he's the sort of man that people are always ready to believe the worst about.
McPherson: Are you in love with him?
Laura: I don't see how I ever could have been.
McPherson: Come on, we're going home.

Laura, dear, I cannot stand these morons any longer. If you don't come with me this instant, I shall run amok.

McPherson: Did you approve of Miss Hunt's coming marriage to Mr. Carpenter?
Anne: Why? Shouldn't I approve?
McPherson: I don't know. What is your relationship with Mr. Carpenter?
Anne: What do you mean?
McPherson: What I mean is he's been a frequent guest in your home. Is he an acquaintance, friend? Are you in love with him?
Lydecker: This is beginning to assume fabulous aspects.
Anne: Oh, shut up, Waldo! What are you driving at?
McPherson: The truth, Mrs. Treadwell. Are you in love with him?
Anne: Why no. I'm - I'm very fond of Mr. Carpenter, of course. Everybody is.
Lydecker: I'm not. I'll be hanged if I am.
Anne: Oh, don't be so annoying, Waldo.
McPherson: Did you give Mr. Carpenter money?
Anne: What do you mean?
McPherson: A couple of checks went through your account endorsed by him...
Anne: [laughing embarrassingly] Oh that. I asked him to do some shopping for me. That's all.
Lydecker: Shelby's a very obliging fellow.
McPherson: For some time also, you've been withdrawing various amounts in cash, sometimes fifteen hundred, sometimes seventeen hundred at a clip.
Anne: Yes. I needed that money.
McPherson: The day you took out fifteen hundred dollars, Mr. Carpenter deposited thirteen hundred fifty. When you withdrew seventeen hundred, he deposited fifteen hundred fifty.
Lydecker: Maybe they were shooting craps?
Anne: Oh, must I be insulted like this! Shelby needed some money and I lent it to him. That's all. Well, after all, it is my money. I suppose I can do as I please with it.

[to Laura] I don't use a pen. I write with a goose quill dipped in venom.....I'll neither consider, endorse, or use the Wallace pen. I hate pens. If your employers wish me to publish that statement in my column, you may tell them that I shall be delighted to oblige.

I shall never forget the weekend Laura died. A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if I were the only human being left in New York. For with Laura's horrible death, I was alone. I, Waldo Lydecker, was the only one who really knew her. And I had just begun to write Laura's story when - another of those detectives came to see me. I had him wait. I could watch him through the half-open door. I noted that his attention was fixed upon my clock. There was only one other in existence, and that was in Laura's apartment in the very room where she was murdered.

[to Laura] I wish to point out that you caught me at my most difficult moment. Ordinarily, I am not without a heart...Shall I produce X-ray pictures to prove it? I wish to apologize...And now, for reasons which are too embarrassing to mention, I'd like to endorse that pen.

Shelby: [at Anne's home] Hello, darling. I didn't expect to see you tonight.
Lydecker: There you are, my dear. In a moment of supreme disaster, he's trite.
Shelby: You've been readin' too many melodramas, Waldo. I was just telling Anne about our getting married.

Then one Tuesday, she phoned and said she couldn't come. It didn't matter really. But when it happened again the following Friday, I was disturbed. I couldn't understand it. I felt betrayed and yet I knew Laura wouldn't betray anyone. I walked for a long time. Then, I found myself before her apartment building. The lights were on. It pleased me to know she was home 'til I saw she was not alone. Well, I waited. I wanted to see who he was. It was Jacoby who had recently painted her portrait. I never liked the man. He was so obviously conscious of looking more like an athlete than an artist. I spent the rest of the night writing a column about him. I demolished his affectations, exposed his camouflaged imitations of better painters, ridiculed his theories. I did it for her, knowing Jacoby was unworthy of her. It was a masterpiece because it was a labor of love. Naturally, she could never regard him seriously again. There were others, of course. But her own discrimination ruled them out before it became necessary for me to intercede.

This is our table, Laura's and mine. We spent many quiet evenings here together.

To have overlooked me would have been a pointed insult.