I looked at her. Sheila was my girl--the girl I wanted--and wanted for keeps. But it wasn't any use having illusions about her. Sheila was a liar and probably always would be a liar. It was her way of fighting for survival--the quick easy glib denial. It was a child's weapon--and she'd probably never got out of using it. If I wanted Sheila, I must accept her as she was--be at hand to prop up the weak places. We've all got our weak places. Mine were different from Sheila's, but they were there.
Agatha ChristieSelf-preservation's a man's first duty. And natives don't mind dying, you know. They don't feel about it as Europeans do.
Agatha ChristieOne little Indian boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there were none.
Agatha ChristieI always take abroad with me one really good soft pillow--to me it makes all the difference between comfort and misery.
Agatha ChristieNobody knows what another person is thinking. They may imagine they do, but they are nearly always wrong.
Agatha ChristieI, myself, was always recognized . . . as the โslow oneโ in the family. It was quite true, and I knew it and accepted it. Writing and spelling were always terribly difficult for me. My letters were without originality. I was . . . an extraordinarily bad speller and have remained so until this day.
Agatha Christie