cimorene

If he intended the glance he shot at me to be complimentary, I'd hate to have him give me one of disapproval.

"Only the man who knows too little knows too much."

I'm prejudiced about a mustache trying to pass as a plucked eyebrow.

He smiled at me to show that he liked me, that he approved of everything I had ever said or done, and that he understood all my problems perfectly.

He had been suffering with ulcers from the cradle on, close to half a century—or if not, it was up to him to explain how his face had got so sour that looking at him would have turned his own dog into a pessimist.

If he intended the glance he shot at me to be complimentary, I'd hate to have him give me one of disapproval.

welcomed me with a smile which indicated that the only reason she had taken the job was that she thought I would show up someday

His voice, though below a bellow, was up to five times as many decibels as were needed.

—The Golden Spiders (Actually #22, before The Black Mountain. I read it out of order)

This was an unusually action-packed and interesting plot, with a lot of humor and an extended appearance of Saul and the gang; but, uh, I was a little wigged out by... the... torture. I mean the book's attitude was very "This is totally MILD torture if you do it right!!!" but... mild... torture?? It was shocking and jarring. I suppose in the early 1950s torture was like... just a generally accepted element of being Tough that you might legitimately use when you had a moral right to some information or other - or that's the impression the book gave about it (as long as it was only light torture!). But, obviously, from the modern-day standpoint, that is both (morally/ethically) insane and pointless, because it's well-known (though not to the CIA apparently, nor the Bush administration in general, nor most American cop-propaganda crime mystery shows...) that torture is not a reliable way to obtain information because the victims are incentivized more to say anything at all and/or anything they think you want to hear than to specifically tell the truth. ...So I'd have to say this novel is a mixed bag. The torture isn't a gross-out, and the victim has just been torturing one of Archie's pals himself, but it seems reasonable enough to simply never read any books where the protagonist is going to consciously and willingly do it. But on the other hand, if you just redacted a short section of one scene there'd be no torture, and this would then unquestionably be one of the first Wolfe novels I would recommend. It should also come with a second trigger warning for the death of a child character. Of course it's a murder mystery and all, but that also did surprise me.

It was one of those rooms that call for expert dodging to get anywhere.

It was one of those rooms that call for expert dodging to get anywhere.

I will go beyond the call of duty in a pinch, but I wouldn't drink gin and ginger ale to get the lowdown on Lizzie Borden.

if they were the cream the milk must have been dishwater

"There are very few women I would ask to meet me at the morgue, and Mrs. Molloy is not one of them."

—Might as Well Be Dead

A great premise. They undertake to find a long-lost son for someone, having only his intials to go on, but quickly learn he's just been convicted of murder and they have to clear him (against his will, because he thinks the woman he loves did it). Aside from this, the murder revolves around the way telephones worked before answering machines were invented - commercial answering services and ladies at switchboards and all that, which has a lot of interest by itself. Also as a bonus, Stout kills off Johnny Keems - the first recurring character killed off in the series, so it raises the stakes quite a bit.