From Murder, My Sweet
[to private detective Philip Marlowe
] Sometimes I hate men. ALL men. Old men, young men... beautiful young men who use rosewater and... almost heels who are private detectives.
[hidden in the shadows, laughs - then she comes out
] Oh, I'm sorry, darling, I couldn't help laughing; but you should know by now that men play rough. They soften you up, throw you off guard, and then belt you one.
] That was a dirty trick, but maybe it'll teach you not to overplay a good hand. Now she doesn't like you. She hates men.