If It's In The Bin, It's Public

Visiting Any Shop For The First Time Is Exciting. There's Always That Buzz As You Push Open The Door; That Hope; That Belief - That This Is Going To Be The Shop Of All Shops, Which Will Bring You Everything You Ever Wanted, At Magically Low Prices.

I'm Lying. I Don't Just Need Someone Like You. I Need You.

Maybe My Identity's Been Stolen. Or Maybe I Was Sleep-shopping!

I Hurl The Glass Teapot To The Ground. We Both Stare At It, Stunned. "it Was Supposed To Break," I Explain After A Pause, " And That Was Going To Signify That Yes, I Would Throw Something Away . If I Knew It Wasn't Right For Me.

I'm Never Going To Believe A Poirot Mystery Again. Never. All Those Witnesses Going, "yes, I Remember It Was 3:06 P.m. Exactly, Because I Glanced At The Clock As I Reached For The Sugar Tongs, And Lady Favisham Was Quite Clearly Sitting On The Right-hand Side Of The Fireplace." Bollocks. They Have No Idea Where Lady Favisham Was, They Just Don't Want To Admit It In Front Of Poirot. I'm Amazed He Gets Anywhere.