Agatha Christie

“To all those who lead monotonous lives in the hope that they may experience at second hand the delights and dangers of adventure.[author's dedication]”

“A man when he is making up to anybody can be cordial and gallant and full of little attentions and altogether charming. But when a man is really in love he can't help looking like a sheep.”

“Mr. Beresford put down the Daily Mail, which he was reading, and applauded with somewhat unnecessary vigour. He was politely requested by his colleague not to be an ass.”

“Never tell all you know—not even to the person you know best.”

“I suppose next time I come home I shall find you wearing false moustaches—or are you doing so now?' Poirot winced. His moustaches had always been his sensitive point. He was inordinately proud of them. My words touched him on the raw. 'No, no, indeed, mon ami. That day, I pray the good God, is still far off. The false moustaches! Quelle Horreur!’ He tugged at them vigorously to assure me of their genuine character. 'Well, they are very luxuriant still,' I said. 'N’est-ce pas? Never, in the whole of London, have I seen a pair of moustaches to equal mine.' A good job too, I thought privately.”

“One of the saddest things in life, is the things one remembers.”

“He laughs best who laughs at the end.”

“Very unfortunately, she had no husband. She had never had a husband, and therefore did not kill a husband.”

“I really cannot understand the point of what you're saying. Really,' said Clotilde, looking at her. 'What a very extraordinary person you are. What sort of a woman are you? Why are you talking like this? Who are you?'Miss Marple pulled down the mass of pink wool that encircled her head, a pink wool scarf of the same kind that she had once worn in the West Indies.'One of my names,' she said, 'is Nemesis.''Nemesis? And what does that mean?''I think you know,' said Miss Marple. 'You are a very well educated woman. Nemesis is long delayed sometimes, but it comes in the end.”

“There hung about her the restrained energy of a whiplash.”

“Nobody believes in magicians any more, nobody believes that anyone can come along and wave a wand and turn you into a frog. But if you read in the paper that by injecting certain glands scientists can alter your vital tissues and you'll develop froglike characteristics, well, everybody would believe that.”

“You think he is marrying her for money?''Yes, I do. Don't you think so?''I should say quite certainly,' said Miss Marple. 'Like young Ellis who married Marion Bates, the rich ironmonger's daughter. She was a very plain girl and absolutely besotted about him. However, it turned out quite well. People like young Ellis and this Gerald Wright are only really disagreeable when they've married a poor girl for love. They are so annoyed with themselves for doing it that they take it out of the girl. But if they marry a rich girl they continue to respect her.”

“One does see so much evil in a village,' murmured Miss Marple in an explanatory voice.”

“Melchett said gloomily, 'Well, we know where we are -- or rather, where we aren't!''Where we aren't expresses it rather better, sir.”

“Downstairs in the lounge, by the third pillar from the left, there sits an old lady with a sweet, placid, spinsterish face and a mind that has plumbed the depths of human iniquity and taken it all as in the day's work....where crime is concerned, she's the goods.”

“What I feel is that if one has got to have a murder actually happening in one's house, one might as well enjoy it, if you know what I mean.”

“They tried to be too clever---and that was their undoing.”

“Every murderer is probably somebody's old friend.”

“Instinct is a marvelous thing. It can neither be explained nor ignored.”

“When you find that people are not telling you the truth---look out!”

“Real evidence is usually vague and unsatisfactory. It has to be examined---sifted. But here the whole thing is cut and dried. No, my friend, this evidence has been very cleverly manufactured---so cleverly that it has defeated its own ends.”

“Everything must be taken into account. If the fact will not fit the theory---let the theory go.”

“An appreciative listener is always stimulating.”

“Why shouldn't I hate her? She did the worst thing to me that anyone can do to anyone else. Let them believe that they're loved and wanted and then show them that it's all a sham.”

“Hemlock in the cocktails, wasn't it? Something of that kind.”

“No, my friend, I am not drunk. I have just been to the dentist, and need not return for another six months! Is it not the most beautiful thought?--Poirot”

“Words are such uncertain things, they so often sound well but mean the opposite of what one thinks they do.”

“You do think you know about everything," said her husband. I do," said Tuppence.”

“Will you pour out tea, Miss Brent?' The el­der wom­an replied: 'No, you do it, dear. That tea-​pot is so heavy. And I have lost two skeins of my grey knitting-​wool. So an­noy­ing.' Ve­ra moved to the tea-​ta­ble. There was a cheer­ful rat­tle and clink of chi­na. Nor­mal­ity returned. Tea! Blessed or­di­nary everyday af­ter­noon tea! Philip Lom­bard made a cheery re­mark. Blore re­spond­ed. Dr. Arm­strong told a hu­mor­ous sto­ry. Mr. Jus­tice War­grave, who or­di­nar­ily hat­ed tea, sipped ap­prov­ing­ly. In­to this re­laxed at­mo­sphere came Rogers. And Rogers was up­set. He said ner­vous­ly and at ran­dom: 'Ex­cuse me, sir, but does any one know what's become of the bath­room cur­tain?' Lom­bard's head went up with a jerk. 'The bath­room cur­tain? What the dev­il do you mean, Rogers?' 'It's gone, sir, clean van­ished. I was go­ing round draw­ing all the cur­tai­ns and the one in the lav -​ bath­room wasn't there any longer.' Mr. Jus­tice War­grave asked: 'Was it there this morn­ing?''Oh, yes, sir.' Blore said: 'What kind of a cur­tain was it?''Scar­let oil­silk, sir. It went with the scar­let tiles.'Lom­bard said: 'And it's gone?''Gone, Sir.'They stared at each oth­er. Blore said heav­ily: 'Well - af­ter all-​what of it? It's mad - ​but so's everything else. Any­way, it doesn't matter. You can't kill any­body with an oil­silk cur­tain. For­get about it.'Rogers said: 'Yes, sir, thank you, sir.' He went out, shut­ting the door.”

“The oth­ers went up­stairs, a slow unwilling pro­ces­sion. If this had been an old house, with creak­ing wood, and dark shad­ows, and heav­ily pan­elled walls, there might have been an eerie feel­ing. But this house was the essence of moder­ni­ty. There were no dark corners - ​no pos­si­ble slid­ing pan­els - it was flood­ed with elec­tric light - every­thing was new and bright and shining. There was noth­ing hid­den in this house, noth­ing con­cealed. It had no at­mo­sphere about it. Some­how, that was the most fright­en­ing thing of all. They ex­changed good-​nights on the up­per land­ing. Each of them went in­to his or her own room, and each of them automatical­ly, al­most with­out con­scious thought, locked the door....”

“Present­ly, when the strain re­laxed, Blore said: 'There are habits and habits! Mr. Lom­bard takes a re­volver to out-​of-​the-way places, right enough, and a primus and a sleep­ing-​bag and a sup­ply of bug pow­der, no doubt! But habit wouldn't make him bring the whole out­fit down here? It's on­ly in books peo­ple car­ry re­volvers around as a matter of course.' Dr. Arm­strong shook his head per­plexed­ly.”

“It was An­tho­ny Marston who dis­agreed with the ma­jor­ity. 'A bit un­sport­ing, what?' he said. 'Ought to fer­ret out the mys­tery be­fore we go. Whole thing's like a de­tec­tive sto­ry. Pos­itive­ly thrilling.' The judge said acid­ly: 'At my time of life, I have no de­sire for "thrills," as you call them.' An­tho­ny said with a grin: 'The le­gal life's narrow­ing! I'm all for crime! Here's to it.' He picked up his drink and drank it off at a gulp. Too quick­ly, per­haps. He choked -​ choked bad­ly. His face contort­ed, turned pur­ple. He gasped for breath -​ then slid down off his chair, the glass falling from his hand.”

“It had come about ex­act­ly in the way things hap­pened in books.”

“To every problem, there is a most simple solution.”

“Heather Badcock meant no harm. She never did mean harm, but there is no doubt that people like Heather Badcock (and like my old friend Alison Wilde), are capable of doing a lot of harm because they lack - not kindness, they have kindness - but any real consideration for the way their actions may affect other people. She though always of what an action meant to her, never sparing a thought to what it might mean to somebody else.”

“But surely for everything you love you have to pay some price.”

“What's wrong with my proposition?" Poirot rose. "If you will forgive me for being personal-I do not like your face, M. Ratchett.”

“DON'T EAT NONE OF THE PLUM PUDDING. ONE WHO WISHES YOU WELL.”

“Everyone is a potential murderer-in everyone there arises from time to time the wish to kill-though not the will to kill.”

“I'm not the head of Scotland Yard," said Mrs. Oliver, retreating from dangerous ground. "I'm a private individual -" "Oh, you're not that," said Rhoda, confusedly complimentary.”

“Hercule Poirot spread out his hands in his most foreign manner.”

“It is deplorable...to remove all the romance - all the mystery!”

“To count - really and truly to count - a woman must have goodness or brains.”

“One little Indian left all alone, he went out and hanged himself and then there were none.”

“Difficulties are made to be overcome ~ Miss Felicity Lemon, Agatha Christie's Poirot: The Plymouth Express”

“If you place your head in a lion's mouth, then you cannot complain one day if he happens to bite it off.”

“A woman who doesn't lie is a woman without imagination and without sympathy.”

“Many homicidal lunatics are very quiet, unassuming people. Delightful fellows.”

“One of us in this very room is in fact the murderer.”

“For in the long run, either through a lie, or through truth, people were bound to give themselves away …”