Agatha Christie

“My dear Mr. Mayherne,” said Romaine, “you do not see at all. I knew—he was guilty!”

[Fictional detective Hercule] Poirot was an extraordinary-looking little man. He was hardly more than five feet four inches, but carried himself with great dignity. His head was exactly the shape of an egg, and he always perched it a little on one side. His moustache was very stiff and military. The neatness of his attire was almost incredible; I believe a speck of dust would have caused him more pain than a bullet wound.

I live now on borrowed time, waiting in the anteroom for the summons that will inevitably come.

Good advice is always certain to be ignored, but that's no reason not to give it.

No country can be described as free- but each has different degrees of bondage.

I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming... suddenly you find - at the age of 50, say - that a whole new life has opened before you.

I have enjoyed greatly the second blooming that comes when you finish the life of the emotions and of personal relations; and suddenly find - at the age of fifty, say - that a whole new life has opened before you, filled with things you can think about, study, or read about...It is as if a fresh sap of ideas and thoughts was rising in you.

Curious things, habits. People themselves never knew they had them.

Where large sums of money are concerned, it is advisable to trust nobody.

Never do anything yourself that others can do for you.

One is left with the horrible feeling now that war settles nothing; that to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one.

An archaeologist is the best husband a woman can have; the older she gets the more interested he is in her.

Coffee in England always tastes like a chemistry experiment.

If one sticks too rigidly to one’s principles, one would hardly see anybody.

I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainty that just to be alive is a grand thing.

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.

He [Hercule Poirot] tapped his forehead.

War settles nothing … to win a war is as disastrous as to lose one!

Write even when you don’t want to, don’t much like what you are writing, and aren’t writing particularly well.