Prisoners At The Bar, Have You Anything

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.

If We Seek To Keep The Past Alive, We End, I Think, By Distorting It.

It Is A Curious Thought, But It Is Only When You See People Looking Ridiculous That You Realize Just How Much You Love Them.

There Is Nothing More Thrilling In This World, I Think, Than Having A Child That Is Yours, And Yet Is Mysteriously A Stranger.

It's A Mystery To Me How Anyone Ever Gets Any Nourishment In This Place. They Must Eat Their Meals Standing Up By The Window So As To Be Sure Of Not Missing Anything.