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That was the worst of Dr Reilly. You never knew whether he was joking or not. He always said things in the same slow melancholy way - but half the time there was a twinkle underneath it.
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This, Hastings, will be my last case. It will be, too, my most interesting case - and my most interesting criminal.
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Harold Waring, like many other Englishmen, was a bad linguist.
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Now there is no murder without a motive.
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Like most Englishmen, he felt something strongly, and proceeded to muddle around until he had, somehow or other, cleared up the mess.
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Understand this, I mean to arrive at the truth. The truth, however ugly in itself, is always curious and beautiful to seekers after it.
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The fellow is an absolute outsider, anyone can see that. He’s got a great black beard, and wears patent leather boots in all weathers!
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‘You’re frightfully BBC in your language this afternoon, Albert,’ said Tuppance, with some exasperation. Albert looked slightly taken aback and reverted to a more natural form of speech. ‘I was listening to a very interesting talk on pond life last night,’ he explained.
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I am not keeping back facts. Every fact that I know is in your possession. You can draw your own deductions from them.
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But to succeed in life every detail should be arranged well beforehand.
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'Well, what are you doing? What have you done?' 'I am sitting in this char,' said Poirot. 'Thinking,' he added. 'Is that all?' said Mrs. Oliver. 'It is the important thing,' said Poirot.
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Tout de même, it is not necessary that he should be killed on the Orient Express. There are other places.
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The crime is now logical and reasonable.
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'There’s no reason why women shouldn’t behave like rational beings,' said Simon stolidly. Poirot said dryly: 'Quite frequently they do. That is even more upsetting!'
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Oh dear, I never realized what a terrible lot of explaining one has to do in a murder!
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Is it coding - or code breaking? Is it like Deborah’s job? Do be careful, Tommy, people go queer doing that and can’t sleep and walk about all night groaning and repeating 978345286 or something like that and finally have nervous breakdowns and go into homes.
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One forgets how human murderers are.
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'It makes her rather alarming,' I said. 'Sincerity has that effect,' said Miss Marple.
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'You do well. Method and order, they are everything,' replied Poirot.
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‘I have often noticed that being a devoted wife saps the intellect,’ murmured Tommy.
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It's as easy to utter lies as truth.
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‘If one approaches a problem with order and method there should be no difficulty in solving it - none whatever,’ said Pirot severely.
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It is the misfortune of small, precise men always to hanker after large and flamboyant women.
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There were to be no short cuts to the truth. Instead he would have to adopt a longer, but a reasonably sure method. There would have to be conversation. Much conversation. For in the long run, either through a lie, or through truth, people were bound to give themselves away...