From An Early Age I Knew Very

We Are The Same People As We Were At Three, Six, Ten Or Twenty Years Old. More Noticeably So, Perhaps, At Six Or Seven, Because We Were Not Pretending So Much Then.

I Looked At Her. Sheila Was My Girl--the Girl I Wanted--and Wanted For Keeps. But It Wasn't Any Use Having Illusions About Her. Sheila Was A Liar And Probably Always Would Be A Liar. It Was Her Way Of Fighting For Survival--the Quick Easy Glib Denial. It Was A Child's Weapon--and She'd Probably Never Got Out Of Using It. If I Wanted Sheila, I Must Accept Her As She Was--be At Hand To Prop Up The Weak Places. We've All Got Our Weak Places. Mine Were Different From Sheila's, But They Were There.

If You Love, You Will Suffer, And If You Do Not Love, You Do Not Know The Meaning Of A Christian Life.

Too Much Mercy... Often Resulted In Further Crimes Which Were Fatal To Innocent Victims Who Need Not Have Been Victims If Justice Had Been Put First And Mercy Second.

It Is The Brain, The Little Gray Cells On Which One Must Rely. One Must Seek The Truth Within--not Without." ~ Poirot