Mary Roberts Rinehart

Mary Roberts Rinehart (August 12, 1876-September 22, 1958) was an American writer, often called the American Agatha Christie, although her first mystery novel was published 14 years before Christie's. She is considered the source of the phrase "The butler did it", although she did not actually use the phrase. She is considered to have invented the "Had-I-But-Known" school of mystery writing. She also created a costumed supercriminal called "the Bat", who was cited by Bob Kane as one of the inspirations for his "Batman."

Read more about Mary Roberts Rinehart:  Biography, Writing

Famous quotes containing the words mary roberts rinehart, roberts rinehart, mary, roberts and/or rinehart:

    I ... hate with a murderous hatred those men who, having lived their youth, would send into war other youth, not lived, unfulfilled, to fight and die for them; the pride and cowardice of those old men, making their wars that boys must die.
    Mary Roberts Rinehart (1876–1958)

    The great God endows His children variously. To some he gives intellect—and they move the earth. To some he allots heart—and the beating pulse of humanity is theirs. But to some He gives only a soul, without intelligence—and these, who never grow up, but remain always His children, are God’s fools, kindly, elemental, simple, as if from His palette the Artist of all had taken one color instead of many.
    —Mary Roberts Rinehart (1876–1958)

    The first general store opened on the ‘Cold Saturday’ of the winter of 1833 ... Mrs. Mary Miller, daughter of the store’s promoter, recorded in a letter: ‘Chickens and birds fell dead from their roosts, cows ran bellowing through the streets’; but she failed to state what effect the freeze had on the gala occasion of the store opening.
    —Administration in the State of Sout, U.S. public relief program (1935-1943)

    Fate, or some mysterious force, can put the finger on you or me, for no good reason at all.
    Martin Goldsmith, and Edgar G. Ulmer. Al Roberts (Tom Neal)

    ... there is something shameful about the death of a play. It does not die with pity, but contempt.
    —Mary Roberts Rinehart (1876–1958)