Events come to people - not people to events. Why do some people have exciting lives and other people dull ones? Because of their surroundings? Not at all. One man may travel to the ends of the earth and nothing will happen to him. There will be a massacre a week before he arrives, and an earthquake the day after he leaves, and the boat that he nearly took will be shipwrecked. And another man may live at Balham and travel to the City everyday, and things will happen to him. He will be mixed up with blackmailing gangs and beautiful girls and motor bandits. There are people with a tendency to shipwrecks - even if they go on a boat on an ornamental lake something will happen to it.
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From Three Act Tragedy by Agatha Christie
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From Murder on the Orient Express
Hercule Poirot: You are a philosopher, Mademoiselle.
Mary Debenham: That implies a detached attitude. I think my attitude is more selfish. I have learned to save myself useless emotion.
Women and Nature have almost exactly the same reactions! Remember it is better to take the largest plate within reach and fling it at a woman’s head than it is to wriggle like a worm whenever she looks at you!
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From Murder in Mesopotamia by Agatha Christie
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A woman who doesn’t lie is a woman without imagination and without sympathy.
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From Murder in Mesopotamia by Agatha Christie
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Now I am old-fashioned. A woman, I consider, should be womanly. I have no patience with the modern neurotic girl who jazzes from morning till night, smokes like a chimney, and uses language which would make a Billingsgate fish-woman blush!
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From The Murder on the Links (Hercule Poirot #2) by Agatha Christie
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There is nothing so dangerous for anyone who has something to hide as conversation! Speech, so a wise old Frenchman said to me once, is an invention of man’s to prevent him from thinking. It is also an infallible means of discovering that which he wishes to hide. A human being, Hastings, cannot resist the opportunity to reveal himself and express his personality which conversation gives him. Every time he will give himself away.
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From The A.B.C. Murders (Hercule Poirot #13) by Agatha Christie
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