Quotes From "Strangers On A Train" By Patricia Highsmith

I know you have it in you, Guy, " Anne said suddenly at the end of a silence, "the capacity to be terribly happy. Patricia Highsmith

But there were too many points at which the other self could invade the self he wanted to preserve, and there were too many forms of invasion: certain words, sounds, lights, actions his hands or feet performed, and if he did nothing at all, heard and saw nothing, the shouting of some triumphant inner voice that shocked him and cowed him. Patricia Highsmith

What chance combination of shadow and sound and his own thoughts had created it? Patricia Highsmith

The law was not society, it began. Society was people like himself and Owen and Brillhart, who hadn't the right to take the life of another member of society. And yet the law did. "And yet the law is supposed to be the will of society at least. It isn't even that. Or maybe it is collectively, " he added, aware that as always he was doubling back before he come to a point, making things as complex as possible in trying to make them certain. Patricia Highsmith

The taste of Scotch, though Guy didn’t much care for it, was pleasant because it reminded him of Anne. She drank Scotch, when she drank. It was like her, golden, full of light, made with careful art. Patricia Highsmith

I tell him his business, all business, is legalized throat-cutting, like marriage is legalized fornication. Patricia Highsmith

I like to drink when I travel. It enhances things, don’t you think? Patricia Highsmith

That's exactly where you're wrong! Any kind of person can murder. Purely circumstances and not a thing to do with temperament! People get so far -- and it takes just the least little thing to push them over the brink. Anybody. Even your grandmother. I know. Patricia Highsmith

The word “marriage” lingered in Guy’s ears, too. It was a solemn word to him. It had the primordial solemnity of holy, love, sin. It was Miriam’s round terra cotta-coloured mouth saying, “Why should I put myself out for you?” and it was Anne’s eyes as she pushed her hair back and looked up at him on the lawn of her house where she planted crocuses. It was Miriam turning from the tall thin window in the room in Chicago, lifting her freckled, shield-shaped face directly up to his as she always did before she told a lie, and Steve’s long dark head, insolently smiling. Patricia Highsmith