“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.”

“I never knew what an extraordinary thing it could be to write a book. In the first place, the characters take the bit between their jaws and canter off with you into places you don't want and never catered for. I had smugly intended my book to be about a family rather like ours, but, lud love you! it's already turned into an account of a barmaid's career in an Edgware Road pub, and I can't squeeze us in anywhere!Odd things happen, too. I had called my pub, 'The Three Feathers,' and counted on there being heaps of pubs in Edgware Road, not called that, but looking a bit like my description. Before we left home, I went down Edgware Road to investigate, and found my pub, even down to the old-fashioned phonograph on the table in the upstairs sitting-room. And I thought, 'I built that place.”

“A good sermon is one side of a passionate conversation. It has to be heard in that way. There are three parties to it, of course, but so are there even to the most private thought-the self that yields the thought, the self that acknowledges and in the same way responds to the thought, and the Lord. That is a remarkable thing to consider.”

“It's the same in real life: Notorious murderers get off scot-free and live happily all their lives, while good people die - sometimes the very best people. That's the way of the world.”

“..it sounded very good and very false at the same time, so that you had the feeling that even if was true, he was touching only on the very highest points and maybe embellishing those a little.”

“She felt very young;at the same time unspeakably aged.She sliced like a knife through everything;at the same time was outside,looking on...far out to sea and alone;she always had the feeling that it was very,very dangerous to live even one day”