quote by Billy Wilder

It was a hot afternoon and I can still remember the smell of honeysuckle all along the street. How can I have known that murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?

— Billy Wilder

Fantastic Hot Afternoon quotations

Hot afternoon quote Hot heads and cold hearts never solved anything.

Hot heads and cold hearts never solved anything.

How could I have known that murder can sometimes smell like honeysuckle?

Give weather reports. It helps the reality of a scene if foghorns are blowing or kites are in the sky on a windy afternoon or the day's so hot wallpaper is peeling off the walls.

Hot afternoon quote A woman is like a tea bag, you never know how strong she is until you put her in

A woman is like a tea bag, you never know how strong she is until you put her in hot water

I write every morning. Two hours. Then I take a break and become my own secretary for a few hours. If I am "hot" I write in the afternoon and at night too.

What harm is there in making 100,000 people happy on a hot summer afternoon?

No sceptical philosopher can ask any questions that may not equally be asked by a tired child on a hot afternoon.

Hot afternoon quote It took me seventeen years to get three thousand hits in baseball. I did it in o

It took me seventeen years to get three thousand hits in baseball. I did it in one afternoon on the golf course.

I'm jackin' off reading Playboy on a hot afternoon, I'm a three time loser.

The revelation that we have everything we need in life to make us happy but simply lack the conscious awareness to appreciate it can be as refreshing as lemonade on a hot afternoon. Or it can be as startling as cold water being thrown in our face. How many of us go through our days parched and empty, thirsting after happiness, when we’re really standing knee-deep in the river of abundance?

I hover over the expensive Scotch and then the Armagnac, but finally settle on a glass of rich red claret. I put it near my nose and nearly pass out. It smells of old houses and aged wood and dark secrets, but also of hard, hot sunshine through ancient shutters and long, wicked afternoons in a four-poster bed. It's not a wine, it's a life, right there in the glass.

What'll we do with ourselves this afternoon,' cried Daisy, 'and the day after that, and the next thirty years?' 'Don't be morbid,' Jordan said. 'Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.' 'But it's so hot,' insisted Daisy, on the verge of tears, 'And everything's so confused. Let's all go to town!

For Tommy, on that hot and empty afternoon, was in a state of mind in which grown-up people go away and write books about their whole world, and stories about what it is like to be married, and plays about the important problems of modern times. Tommy, being only ten years old, was not able to do harm on this large and handsome scale.

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