Whodunit Quotes & Sayings

Nozy Cat lifted one sleepy eyelid, and his marble blue eye glared at her for interrupting his sacred nap. He wore a yellow collar with little red stars printed on it. His second eyelid also opened, and he gave them his irritated blue-eyed glare. — Lyn Key

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
I know what." Isabel reached under the end table, took out the game board, and rattled the Band-Aid box containing the letter tiles. "It's been a week-and-a-half since our last Scrabble game. — Ed Lynskey

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
The June afternoon had clear, blue skies - ideal weather for birdwatching. — Ed Lynskey

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
A grave matter has just arisen." Etta hadn't intended to make the pun. She went on. "It's a problem right up your alley. — Ed Lynskey

That was the trouble with the supernatural, Vimbai thought
you didn't know what laws ruled it, and what was a coincidence and what was a sign and what was weird and what wasn't. It was like a whodunit, only the clues refused to be arranged into any sort of hierarchy or a straight narrative, and most of the time it wasn't even clear if they indeed were clues; a jigsaw puzzle where all the pieces were blank. — Ekaterina Sedia

A mystery is a whodunit. You know what happened, but not how or who's behind it. A thriller, or a suspense, is a howdunit. You know what happened, and you usually know who did it, but you keep reading because you want to know how they pulled it off. — M.J. Rose

She was daft. That's what she was. Completely mental. There was no other explanation for why she was lurking in the back of Butler's Undertaker Lounge and Pub while her siblings were about to go in the front so they could distract him. — Carlene O'Connor

Isabel frowned. "Alma Trumbo, you did not just dig up a human bone from our flowerbed. It's got to be a dinosaur bone, dinky or not."
"A dinosaur bone, eh?" The short, stout Alma gave her tall, slim sister the old up and down. "What then, are we the Flintstones living in Bedrock? — Ed Lynskey

Hope turned sly. "What if the slice of apple pie is served a la mode?"

Smiling, Peggy Sue regarded her tall, brunette, and blue-eyed friend. "Is the slice of apple pie served a la mode with three scoops of homemade vanilla ice cream piled on top of it? — Lyn Key

Speaking of the devil, what is Alma doing right now?"

"Well..." Sitting in her favorite armchair, Isabel craned her neck around to peer down the hallway to where she saw Alma squealing and clapping hands at their pet beagle Petey Sampson. With his tail wagging, he woof-woofed at her, and she woof-woofed right back at him. — Ed Lynskey

You're a nosy sleuth like me because you can't help it, Alma said. — Ed Lynskey

Shouldering the duffel bag with the Marine Corps bulldog, Old Man knocked Jan's photo off the bed table. He turned to stone staring down at the photo. His face then splintered into hurt. Tears seeped into his eyes. He grappled for the nearest bedpost and slumped forward on extended arms. His shoulders jerked and head sagged a little while his heart broke. Old Man cried the mute cry of men of his generation. — Ed Lynskey

Quote taken from Chapter 1
Bill hung up, grumbling to nobody in particular. Emily was about the only caller using the landline phone, and he regretted not getting rid of it. The Robinses were probably the lone holdouts on their city block to still have one. — Ed Lynskey

To me, the raveled sleeve of care is never more painlessly knitted up than in an evening alone in a chair snug yet copious, with a good light and an easily held little volume sloppily printed and bound in inexpensive paper. I do not ask much of it - which is just as well, for that is all I get. It does not matter if I guess the killer, and if I happen to discover, along around page 208, that I have read the work before, I attribute the fact not to the less than arresting powers of the author, but to my own lazy memory. I like best to have one book in my hand, and a stack of others on the floor beside me, so as to know the supply of poppy and mandragora will not run out before the small hours. In all reverence I say Heaven bless the Whodunit, the soothing balm on the wound, the cooling hand on the brow, the opiate of the people.
Book review Of Ellery Queen: The New York Murders, from Esquire, January 1959 — Dorothy Parker

So you say. I just hope you don't catch some exotic dinosaur ailment because Eustis probably doesn't stock the right pills to treat it. — Ed Lynskey

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
"Is Petey Samson a bloodhound for real?" Blue asked. "I could've sworn he's a mixed breed, what my folks used to call a pound mutt."
"Oh, brother," Alma said. "I wished you hadn't said that."
"I'll have you know Petey Samson is no pound mutt," Isabel said, shaking her finger at Blue. "His best breeding lies in his bloodhound line," she said.
"I didn't know that," Blue said.
"Pay no mind to Isabel," Alma said. "She's just being overprotective of her fur baby. — Ed Lynskey

All good stories must have religion, royalty, sex, and mystery. She figured she'd have a good two hours to read her Harlequin," said my grandmother. "Well, little Suzy walked up to her desk one minute later, said she was finished, and handed her the paper. 'That's impossible,' said the teacher, who looked down and read the story: 'My god, said the Princess, I'm pregnant, whodunit? — Holly Morris

The first show I ever worked on was The Killing, which was a whodunit crime show. — Bex Taylor-Klaus

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
"The police should be in it, not us. We're out of here." Bill did an about-face to retrace their route to the door.
Piper whipped out a hand and snagged him by the shirttail. Her tone returned to crisp and decisive. "Slow down, Roadrunner. I'm not ready to leave. We've got work to do."
Incredulous, he stared gape-mouthed at her. "You better explain," he said.
She wiggled her nose. "I'm growing nosier by the second about the circumstances surrounding Anna's murder. — Ed Lynskey

My first novel, 'Compromising Positions,' was a whodunit. The protagonist was a Long Island Jewish housewife who turns private investigator. But she was Jewish the way I was: lighting Sabbath candles but envying her Protestant and Catholic friends' December decorating options. — Susan Isaacs

Sheriff Fox was running his fingers through his thin hair. In a few short years, he'd look bald as a peeled apple. The Snoop sisters and their sidekick, the town's bag lady no less, had traipsed into his office without knocking first. His admin (he couldn't remember their names to save his life) had ushered them in, and they'd just dumped this hot potato into his lap. — Ed Lynskey

On television and in the movies, crimes are always solved. Nothing is left uncertain. By the end, the viewer knows whodunit. In real life, on the other hand, many murders remain unsolved, and even some that are 'solved' to the satisfaction of the police and prosecutors lack sufficient evidence to result in a conviction. — Alan Dershowitz

Have they ever. Isabel never misses a trick. Anytime I step into their foyer, she's dropping hints all over the place. Don't get me wrong because I love both women dearly, and I enjoy playing a game or two of Scrabble, just not on every visit. Why can't we play Monopoly for a change of pace? I love squeezing the play money in my fist and snapping up the swanky properties like Park Place and Boardwalk. — Ed Lynskey

Quote is taken from Chapter 1:
Since Etta could log in her rare Baltimore oriole sighting, she decided she'd had enough birding for one day. It was just a fun hobby, not an obsession. — Ed Lynskey

Alma didn't want Isabel to start singing the praises of their pet, a rescue beagle, or she wouldn't shush until sundown.
"I've found the missing lady," Alma said. "Say welcome home, Betsy Sweet. — Ed Lynskey

I thought the butler always did it," someone remarked under their breath. — Carlene O'Connor

I always look for good stories and good characters, and if they're placed in a whodunit, then I'm interested. — Joel Kinnaman

Megan stepping back let her glance switch from Alma to Isabel and return to Alma. No doubt about it, thought Megan. Created as much alike as any sisters ever had been, their resemblance started with their matching red-and-white polka dot blouses. Since she was a young girl, she had matched their eye colors to their different personalities. — Ed Lynskey

The busy snoops like us can leave no stone unturned, Alma said. — Ed Lynskey

What do we know about the Yank?"
"The one you were flirting with in there?"
"I was not flirting."
"You were flirting."
"You catch more flies with honey."
"Yeah? Well why in the heck would you want to catch flies in the first place?"
He had her there. — Carlene O'Connor

(About "From Hell") The idea was to do a documentary comic about a murder. I concluded that there was a way of approaching the [Ripper] murders in a completely different way. I changed the emphasis from 'whodunit' to 'what happened'. I'd seen advertisements for Douglas Adams' book "Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency". A holistic detective? You wouldn't just have to solve the crime, you'd have to solve the entire world that that crime happened in. That was the twist that I needed. — Alan Moore

Petey Samson gave the ladies an over-the-shoulder glance. He realized no doggie treat was forthcoming, even from Isabel who was usually the soft mark to hit up. He scratched his front claws to re-attack the sand. — Ed Lynskey

When you're writing a whodunit, the dead body is the most important character. It's the pivot point around which the plot spins. — Adrianne Lee

You know, Longmire and all those other great (whodunit) series, I would love to one of those. We just haven't found the right one ... I really am, I think, an old soul, I think, in the acting world. I'm very comfortable in the fifty, sixties era. I love it. — Drew Waters

Quote taken from Chapter 1:
Alma idly wondered if he'd blow his nose, too.
He did. Twice. He made it honk, the sound reminding Alma of Harpo Marx squeezing his bulb horn.
Isabel darted a look at Alma, giving her the don't-you-dare-giggle squint.
Alma dug her fingernails into her palm, the inappropriate laugh rising from her throat as she looked up at the ceiling. Blue refolded his handkerchief and returned it to inside his seersucker jacket. Thankfully, Alma's urge to laugh subsided. — Ed Lynskey

Within the same hour as the murder took place, Isabel Trumbo sat in her armchair dozing, the Alaskan Outdoor magazine on her lap. Her kid sister Alma fidgeted in the other armchair, from time to time picking up her newspaper folded over to the day's crossword puzzle. — Ed Lynskey

In fact, until the last moments of his life, until the last seconds as he gasped for breath, he never realised how much he wanted to live. But, at that point, death was inevitable and nothing that had happened could be changed. — Stephen Craig

She craved a tall glass of the fresh-squeezed lemonade from the pitcher she'd left chilling in the fridge. Two glasses served with a generous slice of pound cake with orange glaze icing sounded twice as nice. — Ed Lynskey

Quote is taken from Chapter 1:
A decade ago when Isabel's husband Max had died, they'd moved in together and merged their possessions. Neither sister brought any fussy teapots, canaries, sachets, or doilies, but lots of other stuff had to either stay or go. Looking at the lime green gave Alma the willies. Her suggestion to slipcover it in a more subdued color had garnered Isabel's frosty stare, and Alma had dropped the matter. — Ed Lynskey

I do believe that even if you're the most clever person around and you figure out the 'whodunit' and you're not surprised - that shouldn't prevent you from enjoying the story. — Marc Guggenheim

Iain now calls you Jessica Fletcher, and he said I can tell you things within reason, and we can both sit back and wait for you to solve our cases. And that he'll be consulting you on one or two others, but I think he was joking. — E.J. Lamprey

Quote taken from Chapter 1 of The Corpse Wore Gingham:
"You love to figure out things as much as I do," Piper said.
"Like what?" Bill asked.
"You fix broken stuff," Piper replied.
"Repairing a broken toaster or steam iron is far different than unraveling a murder mystery," Bill said. — Ed Lynskey