6 Quotes & Sayings By David Goodis

David Goodis was an American novelist. He is best known for his tough, hard-boiled novels of the 1930s and 1940s, many of which were adapted into films. Beginning in the mid-1930s, Goodis wrote more than twenty novels and short stories and sold more than 2 million copies of his work. His best-known works include: Dark Passage (1947), The Killer Inside Me (1953), and The Big Clip (1955) Read more

David Goodis was born in Brooklyn, New York, on June 24, 1917 to Russian Jewish immigrants. He began writing at an early age and published four books by 1927.

1
It was very fast, that first time. They were on the couch, and then they were off the couch and it was all over. It was like jumping out the window and landing on the street. A quick ride, just like that. David Goodis
2
He told himself she wasn’t really such a bad person, she was just a pest, she was sticky, there was something misplaced in her make-up, something that kept her from fading clear of people when they wanted to be in the clear. David Goodis
3
He moved on down the alley, his feet walking forward and his brain swimming backward through a sea of time. It was a dark sea, much darker than the alley. The tide was slow and there were no waves, just tiny ripples that murmured very softly. Telling him about yesterday. Telling him that yesterday could never really be discarded, it was always a part of now. There was just no way to get rid of it. No way to push it aside or throw it into an ash can, or dig a hole and bury it. For all buried memories were nothing more than slow-motion boomerangs, taking their own sweet time to come back. This one had taken seven years. David Goodis
4
Under the blanket the outline of her body was slender and displayed a certain innocence, a precious quality far more significant than the elegance of her form. She seemed to radiate kindness and essential goodness, and Darby, trying to measure the value of her, told himself it was immeasurable. David Goodis
5
Winter was gray and mean upon the city and every night was a package of cold bleak hours, like the hours in a cell that had no door. David Goodis