Agatha Christie (1890 – 1976)
English author of detective fiction.
“You have been to the Riviera before, Georges?” said Poirot to his valet the following morning.
George was an intensely English, rather wooden-faced individual.
“Yes, sir. I was here two years ago when I was in the service of Lord Edward Frampton.”
“And to-day,” murmured his master, “you are here with Hercule Poirot. How one mounts in the world!”
I do not argue with obstinate men. I act in spite of them.
I specialize in murders of quiet, domestic interest.
I must have a talk with you, David, and learn all the new ideas. As far as I can see, one must hate everybody but at the same time give them free medical attention and a lot of extra education, poor things! All those helpless little children herded into schoolhouses every day—and cod liver oil forced down babies’ throats whether they like it or not—such nasty-smelling stuff.
"I saw a particular personage and I threatened him — yes, Mademoiselle, I, Hercule Poirot, threatened him."
"With the police?"
"No," said Poirot drily, "With the Press — a much more deadly weapon."
I am not keeping back facts. Every fact that I know is in your possession. You can draw your own deductions from them.
Crime is terribly revealing. Try and vary your methods as you will, your tastes, your habits, your attitude of mind, and your soul is revealed by your actions.
I don't pretend to be an author or to know anything about writing. I'm doing this simply because Dr Reilly asked me to, and somehow when Dr Reilly asks you to do a thing you don't like to refuse.
I don't think necessity is the mother of invention — invention, in my opinion, arises directly from idleness, possibly also from laziness. To save oneself trouble.
"It is the kind of thing that happens to you when you are stupid," said Esa. "Things go entirely differently from the way you planned them."