Inspector Queen: It's past your bedtime.
Margie: Is it really past your bedtime?
Ellery: He's been trying to get me to go to bed at ten o'clock since I was 14.
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Bud: Keep your fingers crossed, mom. Maybe there really is a curse.
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Wentworth: Sorry to keep you waiting, Brimmer. Can I fix you a little snort?
Brimmer: No thanks.
Wentworth: Then I'll fix me one. After that business with the Egyptian at the museum I need one.
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Margie: My English teacher said a good writer could write anywhere.
Ellery: He never wrote in an automat.
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Inspector Queen: It's the curse of the Pharoah Amon Ra, son. It's claimed another victim.
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Inspector Queen: Why does it always have to be murder?
Velie: The Maestro's got that look on his face.
Inspector Queen: Must be something he wrote.
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Inspector Queen: (to Ellery) The thought of you dictating a book while you're driving a car boggles the imagination.
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Claudia: (about her husband) No one's going to mourn him. In fact, there may be a few who will cheer a little under their breath.
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Brimmer: Nobody's capitalizing on my curse except me.
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Brimmer: Simon Brimmer, sir. May I extend my sympathies on the loss of your father?
Bud: Yeah, thanks a lot.
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Ellery: (about the coffee) It smells good and strong, dad.
Inspector Queen: You're probably half right.
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Claudia: (about their affair) Otis and I are not ashamed.
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Inspector Queen: Norris Wentworth died of natural causes. Nothing will convince me otherwise.
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Margie: Mr. Brimmer, are you trying to pump me?
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