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“The weather is nature's disruptor of human plans and busybodies. Of all the things on earth, nature's disruption is what we know we can depend on, as it is essentially uncontrolled by men.”
― Criss Jami, Killosophy

“If I had a talent I could claim, it would be as a finder of trouble. Which is undoubtedly what I'd find by sticking my nose where it had no right to be. But would I let a thought of trouble stop me? Not a snowflake's chance in hell.”
― Keri Arthur, Full Moon Rising

“If solitude is the school of genius, as the historian Edward Gibbon put it, then the crowded, busy world is the purgatory of the idiot.”
― Ryan Holiday, Stillness Is the Key

“Miss Mapp had experienced a cruel disappointment last night, though the triumph of this morning had done something to soothe it, for Major Benjy's window had certainly been lit up to a very late hour, and so it was clear that he had not been able, twice in succession, to tear himself away from his diaries, or whatever else detained him, and go to bed at a proper time. Captain Puffin, however, had not sat up late; indeed he must have gone to bed quite unusually early, for his window was dark by half-past nine. To-night, again the position was reversed, and it seemed that Major Benjy was "good" and Captain Puffin was "bad". On the whole, then, there was cause for thankfulness, and as she added a tin of biscuits and two jars of Bovril to her prudent stores, she found herself a conscious sceptic about those Roman roads. Diaries (perhaps) were a little different, for egoism was a more potent force than arch忙ology, and for her part she now definitely believed that Roman roads spelt some form of drink. She was sorry to believe it, but it was her duty to believe something of the kind, and she really did not know what else to believe. She did not go so far as mentally to accuse him of drunkenness, but considering the way he absorbed red-currant fool, it was clear that he was no foe to alcohol and probably watered the Roman roads with it.”
― E.F. Benson, Miss Mapp

“Georgie, I've got it," she said. "I've guessed what it means."

Now though Georgie was devoted to his Lucia, he was just as devoted to inductive reasoning, and Daisy Quantock was, with the exception of himself, far the most powerful logician in the place.

"What is it, then?" he asked.

"Stupid of me not to have thought of it at once," said Daisy. "Why, don't you see? Pepino is Auntie's heir, for she was unmarried, and he's the only nephew, and probably he has been left piles and piles. So naturally they say it's a terrible blow. Wouldn't do to be exultant. They must say it's a terrible blow, to show they don't care about the money. The more they're left, the sadder it is. So natural. I blame myself for not having thought of it at once...”
― E.F. Benson, Lucia in London

“Luck ever attends the bold and constructive thinker: the apple, for instance, fell from the tree precisely when Newton's mind was groping after the law of gravity, and as Diva stepped into her grocer's to begin her morning's shopping (for she had been occupied with roses ever since breakfast) the attendant was at the telephone at the back of the shop. He spoke in a lucid telephone-voice.

"We've only two of the big tins of corned beef," he said; and there was a pause, during which, to a psychic, Diva's ears might have seemed to grow as pointed with attention as a satyr's. But she could only hear little hollow quacks from the other end.

"Tongue as well. Very good. I'll send them up at once," he added, and came forward into the shop.

"Good morning," said Diva. Her voice was tremulous with anxiety and investigation. "Got any big tins of corned beef? The ones that contain six pounds."

"Very sorry, ma'am. We've only got two, and they've just been ordered."

"A small pot of ginger then, please," said Diva recklessly. "Will you send it round immediately?"

"Yes, ma'am. The boy's just going out."

That was luck. Diva hurried into the street, and was absorbed by the headlines of the news outside the stationer's. This was a favourite place for observation, for you appeared to be quite taken up by the topics of the day, and kept an oblique eye on the true object of your scrutiny...”
― E.F. Benson, Miss Mapp

“But why did she come back and take her card away?" asked Miss Mackintosh. "I told Florence that Miss Mapp had heard something dreadful about her. And how did she know that Lady Deal was coming here at all? The house was taken in my name."

"That's just what we all long to find out," said Diva eagerly. "She said that somebody in London told her."

"But who?" asked Miss Mackintosh. "Florence only settled to come at lunch time that day, and she told her butler to ring up Susie and say she would be arriving."

Diva's eyes grew round and bright with inductive reasoning.

"I believe we're on the right tack," she said. "Could she have received Lady Deal's butler's message, do you think? What's your number?"

"Tilling 76," said Miss Mackintosh.

Evie gave three ecstatic little squeaks.

"Oh, that's it, that's it!" she said. "Elizabeth Mapp is Tilling 67. So careless of them, but all quite plain. And she did hear it from somebody in London. Quite true, and so dreadfully false and misleading, and so like her. Isn't it, Diva? Well, it does serve her right to be found out."

Miss Mackintosh was evidently a true Tillingite.

"How marvellous!" she said.”
― E.F. Benson, Miss Mapp

“I bless you with a curse to always remain busy”
― Amit Abraham

“What was the point of living in a suburb if one couldn鈥檛 show a healthy curiosity about one鈥檚 neighbours?”
― Barbara Pym, Less Than Angels

“Minding your own business is a good business to own. Anybody busy with creativity will not have time for the frivolity of busybody.”
― Vincent Okay Nwachukwu, Weighty 'n' Worthy African Proverbs - Volume 1

“How come you don't ask me any questions?"
"Questions about what?"
"About the investigation I'm working on," Kaga replied. "It's usually the first thing people ask me when I make inquiries. 'What's happened? What are you investigating?' "
Sagawa chuckled.
"What good would it do anyone to tell an amateur like me? If a detective's on the case, something nasty must have happened. Learning more about it will just make me depressed."
"I wish more people felt like you," said Kaga.”
― Keigo Higashino, Newcomer

“Why, that means you鈥檙e just a 鈥� busybody. You could be anyone. You could be a journalist.鈥欌€�”
― Sara Sheridan, British Bulldog

“Anybody busy with creativity has no time for the frivolity of busybody.”
― Vincent Okay Nwachukwu, Weighty 'n' Worthy African Proverbs - Volume 1

“Miss Moorthy was aware that her interested concern in everybody鈥檚 well-being might be seen by the uncharitable as busybodyness. To Miss Moorthy it was simply a matter of setting things right starting from where she was. She could not single-handedly save the Amazonian rainforests but she could, and did, stop students from carving their names on trees or trampling on plants. It was all the same thing on a different scale, wasn鈥檛 it?”
― Ovidia Yu, Miss Moorthy Investigates

“She and Addie Mae made quick work of the dishes and had the kitchen looking spotless in no time. Of course, it would be a mess again the next night, but that was how things worked in the restaurant business; she wouldn't have had it any other way.”
― Farrah Rochon, Almost There

“The House had a taste for romance novels. Nesta stayed up later than she should have to finish the one it had left the day before, and when she returned to her room that evening, another was waiting.

'Don't tell me you somehow read these?' She leafed through the volume on her nightstand.

In answer, two more books thumped on the surface. Each one utterly filthy.

Nesta let out a small chuckle. 'It must get awfully dull up here.'

A third book plopped atop the others.

Nesta laughed again, a rusty, hoarse sound. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed. A true, belly-deep laugh.

Maybe before her mother had died. She'd certainly had nothing to laugh about once they'd fallen into poverty.

Nesta nodded toward the desk. 'No dinner tonight?'

Her bedroom door only swung open to reveal the dimly lit hallway.

'I've had enough of him for one day.' She'd barely been able to speak to Cassian for the rest of their lesson, unable to stop thinking of how he'd put up a wall without her so much as saying a word, anticipating that she would go after him, assuming that she was so awful she couldn't have a normal conversation. That she'd mock him about his mother and their pain.

'I'd rather stay here.'

The door opened wider.

Nesta sighed. Her stomach ached with hunger. 'You're as much a busybody as the rest of them,' she muttered, and aimed for the dining room.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A 鈥婥ourt of Silver Flames

“When you stick your nose in people's other business, it isn't usually a nose that suffers.”
― Tamerlan Kuzgov