“Pas encore. Qa m'amuse.""Really, Poirot!""Yes, my friend. I grow old and childish, do I not?”
“Poirot," I said. "I have been thinking.""An admirable exercise my friend. Continue it.”
“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”
“I am no longer afraid of getting old. Indeed I can't believe I ever said anything so stupid. So childish. So offensive and arrogant.But mainly, so very, very stupid. I desperately want to grow old.”
“I grow old … I grow old … I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.”
“I loathe a friend whose gratitude grows old, a friend who takes his friend's prosperity but will not voyage with him in his grief”