fiction is founded on truth....unless things did happen,people couldn't think of them.

The whole thing was like a nine-month ocean voyage to which you never got acclimatized.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world.

To keep something wild is far more difficult than to preserve it.

That is what I mean. A bath! The receptacle of porcelain, one turns the taps and fills it, one gets in, one gets out and ghoosh - ghoosh - ghoosh, the water goes down the waste pipe!" "M. Poirot are you quite mad?" "No, I am extremely sane.

Doctors can do almost anything nowadays, can't they, unless they kill you while they're trying to cure you.

Jealousy, you know, is usually not an affair of causes. It is much more-how shall I say?-fundamental than that. Based on the knowledge that one's love is not returned. And so one goes on waiting, watching, expecting...that the loved one will turn to someone else.