You're not a detective, Marlowe, you're a slot machine. You'll do anything for six bits.
Farewell, My Lovely quotes
I think you're a very stupid person. You look stupid, you're in a stupid business, and you're on a stupid case.
I get it. I'm stupid.
All right, Marlowe, let's start again, huh? From the beginning.
I've told you twice. Now, why don't I make it easy on all of us and tell you what you want to hear? This fairy hired me to exchange a necklace for cash for a friend of his. We drove out to the woods. I shot him. I buried the fifteen grand. I drove my car back to his place, walked fifteen miles back to the woods, knocked myself on the head and then called the police.
You a private Dick?
No. I'm your fairy godmother.
What was she like... this Velma?
Cute... cute as lace pants.
Moose never would have hurt her. It didn't matter to him that she hadn't written in 6 years. It didn't matter that she turned him in for a reward. The big lug loved her... and if he was still alive... it wouldn't matter to him that she'd pumped 3 bullets into him... What a world.
Now wait a minute. I've been slapped, scratched, punched, knocked unconscious, drugged, and shot at, looking for your Velma, so quit trying to make a milkshake out of my insides, will you?
This past spring was the first that I felt tired and realized I was growing old. Maybe it was the rotten weather we'd had in L.A. Maybe the rotten cases I'd had. Mostly chasing a few missing husbands and then chasing their wives once I found them, in order to get paid. Or maybe it was just the plain fact that I am tired and growing old.
You've been beaten up, slapped, shot full of hop until you were as crazy as two waltzing mice; now let's see you do something really tough, like getting up.
I sparred with the night clerk for a couple of minutes, but it was like trying to open a sardine can after you broke off the metal lip. There was something about Abraham Lincoln's picture that loosened him up.
It was one of those transient motels, something between a fleabag and a dive.
The house itself wasn't much. It was smaller than Buckingham Palace and probably had fewer windows than the Chrysler building.