Quotes from Dorothy Sayers

Foster never did anything that was not absolutely correct; this, perhaps, was his real weakness, for it meant that he lacked imagination, both in his work and in handling the men under him.

She was a long-necked, long-backed woman, who disciplined her hair and her children. She was never embarrassed, and her anger, though never permitted to be visible, made itself felt the more.

A person who can believe all the articles of the Christian faith is not going to boggle over a trifle of adverse evidence.

Of course, there is some truth in advertising. There's yeast in bread, but you can't make bread with yeast alone. Truth in advertising," announced Lord Peter sententiously, "is like leaven, which a woman hid in three measures of meal. It provides a suitable quantity of gas, with which to blow out a mass of crude misrepresentation into a form that the public can swallow.

he is filled with the solemn intoxication that comes of intricate ritual faultlessly performed.

The vital power of an imaginative work demands a diversity within its unity; and the stronger the diversity, the more massive the unity. Incidentally, this is the weakness of most "edifying" or "propaganda" literature. There is no diversity. The Energy is active only in one part of the whole, and in consequence the wholeness is destroyed and the Power diminished. You cannot, in fact, give God His due without giving the devil his due also.

Fou!" "Who?" "I didn't say 'who'; I said 'fou,' " "I know you did. I said who?" "Who?" "Who's fou?" "Oh, is. By Jove, 'suis'! 'Je suis fou.

Peter: Oy! Harriet: Hullo! Peter: I just wanted to ask whether you'd given any further thought to that suggestion about marrying me. Harriet (sarcastically) : I suppose you were thinking how delightful it would be to go through life together like this? Peter: Well, not quite like this. Hand in hand was more my idea. Harriet: What is that in your hand? Peter: A dead starfish. Harriet: Poor fish! Peter: No ill-feeling, I trust? Harriet: Oh, dear no.

Harriet was angry, and her face showed it. Men; when they got together they were all alike--even Peter. For a moment he and Kirk stood together on the far side of a chasm, and she hated them both.

For among my people are found wicked men: they lay wait, as he that setteth snares; they set a trap, they catch men.

Of course, [Miss Climpson,] you mustn't appear to be inquiring. You must find some good gossipy lady living in the neighborhood and just get her to talk in a natural way. You must pretend to be gossipy yourself — it's not in your nature, I know, but I'm sure you can make a little pretence about it — and find out all you can.

I heard them saying something about a razor—Miss Vane! What killed him?' There were no kindly words for this—not even a long, scientific, Latin name. 'His throat was cut, Mrs Weldon.' (Brutal Saxon monosyllables.)