Agatha Christie Quotes
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He had not remembered her name, but he had seen her dance - had been carried away and fascinated by the supreme art that can make you forget art.
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Men are made fools by the gleaming limbs of women, and, lo, in a minute they are become discolored carnelians. A trifle, a little, the likeness of a dream. And death comes as the end.
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Mrs. Oliver in her own opinion was famous for her intuition. One intuition succeeded another with remarkable rapidity, and Mrs. Oliver always claimed the right to justify the particular intuition which turned out to be right!
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We shall not hunt together again, my friend. Our first hunt was here - and our last … They were good days, Yes, they have been good days...
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I do not argue with obstinate men. I act in spite of them.
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'Do you always travel first-class, Mr. Hardman?' 'Yes, sir. The firm pays my travelling expenses.' He winked.
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The body - the cage - is everything of the most respectable - but through the bars, the wild animal looks out.
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I have, perhaps, too professional a point of view where deaths are concerned. They are divided, in my mind, into two classes - deaths which are my affair and deaths which are not my affair - and though the latter class is infinitely more numerous - nevertheless whenever I come in contact with death I am like the dog who lifts his head and sniffs the scent.
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Never mind. I knew - that was the great thing.
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'Jerry had an expensive public school education, so he doesn’t recognize Latin when he hears it,' said Joanna
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From a distance he had the bland aspect of a philanthropist.
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I did not deceive you, mon ami. At most, I permitted you to deceive yourself.
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How convenient if you could ring up Harrods and say ‘Please send along two good murderers, will you?’
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And if you cast down an idol, there's nothing left.
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'Pilar - remember - nothing is so boring as devotion.'
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I like to inquire into everything. Hercule Poirot is a good dog. The good dog follows the scent, and if, regrettably, there is no scent to follow, he noses around - seeking always something that is not very nice.
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Men are foolish, are they not, Mademoiselle? To eat, to drink, to breathe the good air, it is a very pleasant thing, Mademoiselle. One is foolish to leave all that simply because one has no money - or because the heart aches. L´amour, it causes many fatalities, does it not?
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She broke off, unable to find words to frame her struggling thoughts. What life would be with Hori, she did not know. In spite of his gentleness, in spite of his love for her, he would remain in some respects incalculable and incomprehensible. They would share moments of great beauty and richness together - but what of their common daily life?
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I’m used to that. It often seems to me that’s all detective work is - wiping out your false starts and beginning again.
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'Well', said Miss Marple. 'Are you going to let her get away with it?' There was a pause, then Father brought down his fist with a crash on the table. 'No', he roared - 'No, by God I'm not!' Miss Marple nodded her head slowly and gravely. 'May God have mercy on her soul,' she said.
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How averse human beings were ever to admit ignorance!
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'Tout de même,' said Poirot, 'since I cannot find anything, eh bien, then the logic falls out of the window.'
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Who is there who has not felt a sudden startled pang at reliving an old experience or feeling an old emotion?
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An Englishman thinks first of his work - his job, he calls it - and then of his sport, and last - a good way last - of his wife.