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Movies · 1946

I don't mind if you don't like my manners. I don't like them myself. They're pretty bad. I grieve over them on long winter evenings.

— Philip Marlowe ‧ The Big Sleep

A crumpled dark felt hat rests on a wooden stool beside a frosted window in a dim blue-grey room.
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An editorial interpretation.

The speaker shrugs off criticism of their manners by agreeing with it. They admit their manners are bad and say they even brood over them during long winter evenings, a deadpan joke that pretends to be remorseful while barely caring.

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