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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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How averse human beings were ever to admit ignorance!
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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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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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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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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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They have, all of them, such wonderful good manners. Not taught good manners - the natural thing. I could never have believed till I came here that natural courtesy could be such a wonderful - such a positive thing.
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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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There is no such thing as muddle - obscurity, yes - but muddle can exist only in a disorderly brain.
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'Here are my roses. Like ’em?' 'They’re beautiful,' said Laura politely. 'On the whole,' said Mr. Baldock, 'I prefer them to human beings. They don’t last as long for one thing.'
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'It makes me madder than a hornet to be disbelieved,' she explained.
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I felt that the murderer was in the room. Sitting with us - listening. one of us
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Two is enough for a secret.
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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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God bless my soul, woman, the more personal you are the better! This is a story of human beings - not dummies! Be personal - be prejudiced - be catty - be anything you please! Write the thing your own way. We can always prune out the bits that are libellous afterwards!
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There is always something about conscious tact that is very irritating.
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How true is the saying that man was forced to invent work in order to escape the strain of having to think.
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The character of the victim has always something to do with his or her murder.
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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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'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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Even the sensible and the competent have been given tongues by le bon Dieu - and they do not always employ their tongues wisely.
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Take this Hercules - this hero! Hero, indeed! What was he but a large muscular creature of low intelligence and criminal tendencies!
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I did not deceive you, mon ami. At most, I permitted you to deceive yourself.
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Yes, he is intelligent. But we must be more intelligent. We must be so intelligent that he does not suspect us of being intelligent at all.