Agatha Christie

“Use that fluff of yours you call a brain.”

“Los argumentos se me ocurren en los momentos más insospechados, como cuando voy caminando por la calle o me estoy probando un sombrero en una tienda… y, de repente, una idea espléndida me viene a la cabeza.”

“I demand of you a thousand pardons, monsieur. I am without defence. For some months now I cultivate the marrows. This morning suddenly I enrage myself with these marrows. I send them to promenade themselves - alas! not only mentally but physically. I seize the biggest. I hurl him over the wall. Monsieur, I am ashamed. I prostrate myself.”

“I aften hadde M. Blondin benyttet seg tre ganger av sitt kongelige privilegium - først var det en hertuginne, så en berømt veddeløpslord, og endelig var det en liten, komisk utseende mann med overveldende sorte mustasjer. En tilfeldig tilskuer ville knapt tenke seg at Chez Ma Tante kunne være synderlig beæret ved hans besøk.”

“Poirot var og ble en urokkelig tilhenger av den kontinentale form for frokost. Han ble helt ute av seg over å se meg sette til livs egg og bacon, - så sa han iallfall. Derfor spiste han da også frokost bestående av kaffe og rundstykker, mens jeg hadde min frihet til å begynne dagen alene med engelskmannens tradisjonelle egg og bacon og marmelade.”

“Poirot sa: - Offerets moralske karakter har intet med saken å gjøre. Et menneske som har gjort noe så uhyrlig som å ta et annet menneskes liv, kan ikke få lov til å gå løs i samfunnet. Det sier jeg, Hercule Poirot, og det er min uforgripelige mening. Nå og alltid.”

“Det kan du stole på. Liker du detektivfortellinger? Det gjør jeg. Jeg leser alle sammen, og har navnetrekkene til Dorothy Sayers og Agatha Christie og Dickson Carr og H.C. Bailey.”

“Man må våge viss man vil noen steder, sa fru Bantry.”

“Jungeltelegrafen er stort sett som før, innrømmet fru Bantry.”

“To-tre dager senere mottok frøken Marple et brev med ettermiddagsposten. Hun tok det opp, og som vanlig snudde hun det, kikket på poststempelet og håndskriften, kom til at det ikke var en regning og åpnet konvolutten.”

“Authors were shy, unsociable creatures, atoning for their lack of social aptitude by inventing their own companions and conversations.”

“Evil is not something superhuman, it's something less than human.”

“They all fuss about me so,” she said. “They rub it in that I’m an old woman.”“And you don’t feel like one.”“No, I don’t, Jane. In spite of all my aches and pains–and I’ve got plenty. Inside I go on feeling just like a chit like Gina. Perhaps everyone does. The glass shows them how old they are and they just don’t believe it.”

“There's no reason why women shouldn't behave like rational beings," Simon asserted stolidly.Poirot said drily: "Quite frequently they do. That is even more upsetting!”

“Too much mercy... often resulted in further crimes which were fatal to innocent victims who need not have been victims if justice had been put first and mercy second.”

“Poirot's eyes opened. "That is great ferocity," he said."It is a woman," said the chef de train, speaking for the first time. "Depend upon it, it was a woman. Only a woman would stab like that."Dr. Constantine screwed up his face thoughtfully. "She must have been a very strong woman," he said. "It is not my desire to speak technically-that is only confusing; but I can assure you that two of the blows were delivered with such forces as to drive them through hard belts of bone and muscle.""It was clearly not a scientific crime," said Poirot."It was most unscientific," returned Dr. Constantine."The blows seem to have been delivered haphazard and at random. Some have glanced off, doing hardly any damage. It is as though somebody had shut his eyes and then in a frenzy struck blindly again and again.""C'est une femme," said the chef de train again. "Women are like that. When they are enraged they have great strength." He nodded so sagely that everyone suspected a personal experience of his own.”

“There are more important things than finding the murderer. And justice is a fine word, but it is sometimes difficult to say exactly what one means by it. In my opinion, the important thing is to clear the innocent. - Hercule Poirot”

“Life can be very terrible," he said. "One needs much courage.""To kill oneself? yes, I suppose one does.""Also to live," said Poirot, "one needs courage.”

“What is a secretary to a millionaire? Nine times out of ten it is a young man who likes living soft. A young man with nice manners and a taste for luxury and no brains and no enterprise, and if there is anything that is a softer job than being secretary to a millionaire it is marrying a rich woman for her money.”

“Sensationalism dies quickly, fear is long-lived.”

“How little you might know of a person after living in the same house with them!”

“But no artist, I now realize, can be satisfied with art alone. There is a natural craving for recognition which cannot be gain-said.”

“The point is that one's got an instinct to live. One does not live because one's reason assents to living. People who, as we say, 'would be better dead,' don’t want to die! People who apparently have got everything to live for just let themselves fade out of life because they have not got the energy to fight.”

“To see ourselves as others see us!”

“I like to see an angry Englishman," said Poirot. "They are very amusing. The more emotional they feel the less command they have of language.”

“Do you not realize, Hastings, that each and everyone of us is a complete mystery with layers. We each try to judge each other, but nine times out of ten, we are wrong.”

“You start into it, inflamed by an idea, full of hope, full indeed of confidence. If you are properly modest, you will never write it at all, so there has to be one delicious moment when you have thought of something, know just how you are going to write it, rush for a pencil, and start buoyed up with exaltation. You then get into difficulties, don’t see your way out, and finally manage to accomplish more or less what you first meant to accomplish, though losing confidence all the time. Having finished it, you know it is absolutely rotten. A couple of months later, you wonder if it may not be all right after all.”

“These blondes, sir, they're responsible for a lot of trouble.”

“I gather," he added, "that you've never had much time to study the classics?""That is so.""Pity. Pity. You've missed a lot. Everyone should be made to study the classics, if I had my way."Poirot shrugged his shoulders."Eh bien, I have got on very well without them.""Got on! Got on? It's not a question of getting on. That's the wrong view all together. The classics aren't a ladder leading to quick success, like a modern correspondence course! It's not a man's working hours that are important--it's his leisure hours. That's the mistake we all make. Take yourself now, you're getting on, you'll be wanting to get out of things, to take things easy--what are you going to do then with your leisure hours?”

“Poirot, watching him, felt suddenly a doubt--an uncomfortable twinge. Was there, here, something that he had missed? Some richness of the spirit? Sadness crept over him. Yes, he should have become acquainted with the classics. Long ago. Now, alas, it was too late....”

“First, you have to think and think and think and think; then you have to force yourself to write it down.”

“I disdained to argue, and entrenched my curiosity behind a rampart of pretended indifference.”

“I think you are wise. You haven't got what it takes for this job. You are like Rosemary's father. He couldn't understand Lenin's dictum: 'Away with softness.'"I thought of Hercule Poirot's words."I'm content," I said, "to be human...."We sat there in silence, each of use convinced that the other's point of view was wrong.”

“I looked at her. Sheila was my girl--the girl I wanted--and wanted for keeps. But it wasn't any use having illusions about her. Sheila was a liar and probably always would be a liar. It was her way of fighting for survival--the quick easy glib denial. It was a child's weapon--and she'd probably never got out of using it. If I wanted Sheila, I must accept her as she was--be at hand to prop up the weak places. We've all got our weak places. Mine were different from Sheila's, but they were there.”

“What an absurdity to go and bury oneself in South America, where they are always having revolutions.”

“Me and my old man went on a coach trip to Switzerland and Italy once and it was a whole hour further on there. Must be something to do with this Common Market. I don't hold with the Common Market and nor does Mr. Curtain. England's good enough for me.”

“Edna restored the toffee to the centre of her tongue and sucking pleasurably, resumed her typing of Naked Love by Armand Levine. Its painstaking eroticism left her uninterested--as indeed it did most of Mr. Levine's readers, in spite of his efforts. He was a notable example of the fact that nothing can be duller than dull pornography.”

“And that very same evening - that very same evening - Lord Edgware dies. Good title that, by the way. Lord Edgware Dies. Look well on a book stall.”

“Enemies! People these days don't have enemies! Not English people!”

“Trains are relentless things, aren't they, Monsieur Poirot? People are murdered and die, but they go on just the same. I am talking nonsense, but you know what I mean.""Yes, yes, I know. Life is like a train, Mademoiselle. It goes on. And it is a good thing that that is so.""Why?""Because the train gets to its journey's end at last, and there is a proverb about that in your language, Mademoiselle.""'Journey's end in lovers meeting.'" Lenox laughed. "That is not going to be true for me.""Yes--yes, it is true. You are young, younger than you yourself know. Trust the train, Mademoiselle, for it is le bon Dieu who drives it."The whistle of the engine came again."Trust the train, Mademoiselle," murmured Poirot again. "And trust Hercule Poirot. He knows.”

“I am not mad. I am eccentric perhaps--at least certain people say so; but as regards my profession. I am very much as one says, 'all there.”

“Ah, mais c'est Anglais ca," he murmured, "everything in black and white, everything clear cut and well defined. But life, it is not like that, Mademoiselle. There are things that are not yet, but which cast their shadow before.”

“The expected has happened, and when the expected happens, it always causes me emotion.”

“Human curiosity. Such a very interesting thing. Think of what we owe to it throughout history. It is said to be usually associated with the cat. Curiosity killed the cat. But I should say really that the Greeks were the inventors of curiosity.”

“There is, as Miss Marple would say, a lot of human nature in all of us.”

“Eski günahların gölgesi uzun olur”

“« [...] É il cervello, le piccole cellule grigie» si batté una mano sulla fronte, «la cosa su cui bisogna basarsi. I sensi inducono in errore. Bisogna cercare la verità dal di dentro, non dal di fuori.»”

“«Non posso chiamarti Bella» dicevo, «perché non è il tuo no-me. E Dulcie mi è così poco familiare! Dunque ti chiamerò Cenerentola. E ti ricorderò che Cenerentola sposò un principe. Io non sono un principe... ma...»Lei m'interruppe.«Cenerentola aveva una parte ben difficile da sostenere. Poteva essere sicura di diventare una principessa in piena regola? Perché, dopo tutto, non era che una piccola sguattera e...»«Ora tocca al principe interrompere» ribattei. «E sai che cosa disse?»«No.»«"All'inferno!" disse il principe. E la baciò.»E l'azione seguì alla parola.”

“To rush into explanations is always a sign of weakness.”

“Tea! Bless ordinary everyday afternoon tea!”