A man who drinks too much on occasion is still the same man as he was sober. An alcoholic, a real alcoholic, is not the same man at all. You can't predict anything about him for sure except that he will be someone you never met before.
Raymond ChandlerTag: drinking alcoholism
We have the whitest kitchens and the most shining bathrooms in the world. But in the lovely white kitchen the average [person] can’t produce a meal fit to eat, and the lovely shining bathroom is mostly a receptacle for deodorants, laxatives, sleeping pills, and the products of that confidence racket called the cosmetic industry. We make the finest packages in the world, Mr Marlowe. The stuff inside is mostly junk.
Raymond ChandlerHair like steel wool grew far back on his head and gave him a domed brown forehead that might at careless glance seemed a dwelling place for brains.
Raymond ChandlerПлатих и се отбих в един бар, за да изсипя чашка коняк върху нюйоркската пържола. Защо ли и викаха нюйоркска? Доколкото си спомням стоманените плоскости се произвеждат в Детройт. Излязох да вдъхна малко нощен въздух, за който никой още не бе намерил начин как да го продава. Но не се съмнявах, че доста народ си блъска главата над този проблем. И рано или късно ще сполучи.
Raymond ChandlerI'm in a wild mood tonight. I want to go dance in the foam. I hear the banshees calling.
Raymond ChandlerTall, aren't you?" she said.
"I didn't mean to be."
Her eyes rounded. She was puzzled. She was thinking. I could see, even on that short acquaintance, that thinking was always going to be a bother to her.
She lowered her lashes until they almost cuddled her cheeks and slowly raised them again, like a theatre curtain. I was to get to know that trick. That was supposed to make me roll over on my back with all four paws in the air.
Raymond ChandlerTag: seduction fluttering-eyelashes
I sat down on the edge of a deep soft chair and looked at Mrs Regan. She was worth a stare. She was trouble.
Raymond ChandlerTag: women trouble ogling staring
The book was not new. Dates were stamped on the front endpaper, in and out dates. A rent book. A lending library of elaborate smut.
I rewrapped the book and locked it up behind the seat. A racket like that, out in the open on the boulevard, seemed to mean plenty of protection. I sat there and poisoned myself with cigarette smoke and listened to the rain and thought about it.
Tag: rain smoking protection-racket
Neither of the two people in the room paid any attention to the way I came in, although only one of them was dead.
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