Who is there who has not felt a sudden startled pang at reliving an old experience or feeling an old emotion?

a lot of trouble has been caused by memoirs. Indiscreet revelations, that sort of thing. People who have been close as an oyster all their lives seem positively to relish causing trouble when they themselves shall be comfortably dead.

At the small table, sitting very upright, was one of the ugliest old ladies he had ever seen. It was an ugliness of distinction - it fascinated rather than repelled.

I specialize in murders of quiet, domestic interest.

It's so much nicer to be a secret and delightful sin to anybody than to be a feather in his cap.

Many homicidal lunatics are very quiet, unassuming people. Delightful fellows.

Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defence?