Mr. Jesmond made a peculiar noise rather like a hen who has decided to lay an egg and then thought better of it. — Agatha Christie Copy Share Image
One must accept the fact that we have only one companion in this world, a companion who accompanies us from the cradle to the… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“I like to see an angry Englishman," said Poirot. "They are very amusing. The more emotional they feel the less command they have of… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“Now, as I expect you know, there is nothing more cruel than talk, and there is nothing more difficult to combat. When people say… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“A child says ‘Thank God for my good dinner’. What can I say at seventy-five? ‘Thank God for my good life, and for all… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“I'm afraid I always find Shakespeare terribly dreary. All those long scenes where everybody is drunk and it's supposed to be funny.” — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“Either her dream had taken a very odd turn or else - or else Mary had really rushed into the room and had said… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“Every murderer is probably somebody’s old friend,” observed Poirot philosophically. “You cannot mix up sentiment and reason.” — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“Well, of course, it was not any of my business but you get very queer glimpses of life sometimes, and you can't help speculating… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“Mr. Satterthwaite looked cheered. Suddenly an idea struck him. His jaw fell. "My goodness," he cried, "I've only just realized it! That rascal, with… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“The old gentleman refuses to have the telephone which he regards as a device of the devil, and on a par with radio, television,… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“That’s how they do it, these girls! Othello charmed Desdemona by telling her stories, but, oh, didn’t Desdemona charm Othello by the way she… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
It is ridiculous to set a detective story in New York City. New York City is itself a detective story. — Agatha Christie Copy Share
“Poirot, watching him, felt suddenly a doubt--an uncomfortable twinge. Was there, here, something that he had missed? Some richness of the spirit? Sadness crept… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
Then there are some minor points that strike me as suggestive - for instance, the position of Mrs. Hubbard's sponge bag, the name of… — Agatha Christie Copy Share
