He Was Very Much A Man Of

Our Weapon Is Our Knowledge. But Remember, It May Be A Knowledge We May Not Know That We Possess.

Vous Eprouves Trop D'emotion, Hastings, It Affects Your Hands And Your Wits. Is That A Way To Fold A Coat? And Regard What You Have Done To My Pyjamas. If The Hairwash Breaks What Will Befall Them?' 'good Heavens, Poirot,' I Cried, 'this Is A Matter Of Life And Death. What Does It Matter What Happens To Our Clothes?' 'you Have No Sense Of Proportion Hastings. We Cannot Catch A Train Earlier Than The Time That It Leaves, And To Ruin One's Clothes Will Not Be The Least Helpful In Preventing A Murder.

Authors Were Shy, Unsociable Creatures, Atoning For Their Lack Of Social Aptitude By Inventing Their Own Companions And Conversations.

Don't Think. That Is The Wrong Way To Bring Anything Back. Let It Go. Sooner Or Later It Will Flash Into Your Mind.

One Must Make One's Own Mistakes