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

If anyone is really determined to lend you a book, you never can get out of it!

Then there are some minor points that strike me as suggestive - for instance, the position of Mrs. Hubbard's sponge bag, the name of Mrs. Armstrong's mother, the detective methods of Mr. Hardman, the suggestion of Mr. MacQueen that Ratchett himself destroyed the charred note we found, Princess Dragomiroff's Christian name, and a grease spot on a Hungarian passport.

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

Everything has got its right size. When it is its right size and well run it's the tops.

Plots come to me at such odd moments, when I am walking along the street, or examining a hat shop… suddenly a splendid idea comes into my head.

One does see so much evil in a village,' murmured Miss Marple in an explanatory voice.