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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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To commit a successful murder must be very much like bringing off a conjuring trick.
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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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What beats me - it always does - is how a man can be so clever and yet be such a perfect fool.
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‘Truth of it is,’ said Commander Haydock, steering rather erratically round a one-way island and narrowly missing collision with a large van, ‘when the beggars are right, one remembers it, and when they’re wrong you forget it.’
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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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Courage is the resolution to face the unforeseen.
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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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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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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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The body - the cage - is everything of the most respectable - but through the bars, the wild animal looks out.
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From a distance he had the bland aspect of a philanthropist.
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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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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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I did not deceive you, mon ami. At most, I permitted you to deceive yourself.
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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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Plymouth, Gwenda thought, as she moved forward obediently in the queu for Passports and Customs, was probably not the best of England.
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'It makes me madder than a hornet to be disbelieved,' she explained.
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'Pilar - remember - nothing is so boring as devotion.'
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Last time I had my hands on you, you felt like a bird - struggling to escape. You'll never escape now...
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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?