The Human Face Is, After All, Nothing

Every Murderer Is Probably Somebody's Old Friend.

You Are The Patient One, Mademoiselle,' Said Poirot To Miss Debenham. She Shrugged Her Shoulders Slightly. 'what Else Can One Do?' You Are A Philosopher, Mademoiselle.' That Implies A Detached Attitude. I Think My Attitude Is More Selfish. I Have Learned To Save Myself Useless Emotion.

The Trouble With You And Me, Is That We Don't Live In The Real World. We Dream Of Fantastic Things That May Never Happen.

I Didn't Want To Work. It Was As Simple As That. I Distrusted Work, Disliked It. I Thought It Was A Very Bad Thing That The Human Race Had Unfortunately Invented For Itself.

Instinct Is A Marvelous Thing. It Can Neither Be Explained Nor Ignored.