Zitate von Raymond Chandler

http://www.spiegel.de/spiegel/print/d-41147138.html 30.08.1976
"Yes, I am exactly like the characters in my books. I am very tough and have been known to break a Vienna roll with my bare hands." - Brief an seinen Agenten Edgar Carter. 5. Februar 1951 http://theamericanreader.com/5-february-1951-raymond-chandler-to-edgar-carter/

Farewell, My Lovely

https://martin-ramsauer-verlag.jimdo.com/die-neunte-reihe/erlesenes/raymond-chandler/ martin-ramsauer-verlag.jimdo.com
"I set out the chess-board. I filled a pipe, paraded the chessmen and inspected them for French shaves and loose buttons, and played a championship tournament game between Gortchakoff and Meninkin, seventy-two moves to a draw, a price specimen of the irresistible force meeting the immovable object, a battle without armor, a war without blood, and as elaborate a waste of human intelligence as you could find anywhere outside an advertising agency." - The Long Goodbye (1953). PT174 books.google https://books.google.de/books?id=K2wD3ZjkzBIC&pg=PT174&dq=advertising

http://www.spiegel.de/spiegel/print/d-41147138.html 30.08.1976
"All us tough guys are hopeless sentimentalists at heart" - Brief an Roger Machell 7. Februar 1955 http://articles.latimes.com/2001/may/06/books/bk-59816/3l

Quelle: The Long Goodbye

Quelle: The Long Goodbye

The Long Goodbye (1954)

"Great Thought" (19 February 1938), published in The Notebooks of Raymond Chandler (1976)
Kontext: There are two kinds of truth: the truth that lights the way and the truth that warms the heart. The first of these is science, and the second is art. Neither is independent of the other or more important than the other. Without art, science would be as useless as a pair of high forceps in the hands of a plumber. Without science, art would become a crude mess of folklore and emotional quackery. The truth of art keeps science from becoming inhuman, and the truth of science keeps art from becoming ridiculous.

Quelle: Philip Marlowe's Guide to Life

Quelle: Long Goodbye

Quelle: The Big Sleep (1939), Chapter 32, Phillip Marlowe
Kontext: What did it matter where you lay once you were dead? In a dirty sump or in a marble tower on top of a high hill? You were dead, you were sleeping the big sleep, you were not bothered by things like that. Oil and water were the same as wind and air to you. You just slept the big sleep, not caring about the nastiness of how you died or where you fell. Me, I was part of the nastiness now. Far more a part of it than Rusty Regan was. But the old man didn't have to be. He could lie quiet in his canopied bed, with his bloodless hands folded on the sheet, waiting. His heart was a brief, uncertain murmur. His thoughts were as gray as ashes. And in a little while he too, like Rusty Regan, would be sleeping the big sleep.

Quelle: The Big Sleep (1939), Chapter 1
Kontext: The main hallway of the Sternwood place was two stories high. Over the entrance doors, which would have let in a troop of Indian elephants, there was a broad stained-glass panel showing a knight in dark armor rescuing a lady who was tied to a tree and didn't have any clothes on but some very long and convenient hair. The knight had pushed the vizor of his helmet back to be sociable, and he was fiddling with the knots on the ropes that tied the lady to the tree and not getting anywhere. I stood there and thought that if I lived in the house, I would sooner or later have to climb up there and help him. He didn't seem to be really trying.