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

Fey...a Scotch word...It means the kind of exalted happiness that comes before disaster. You know--it's too good to be true.

The simplest explanation is always the most likely.

Surfing is like that. You are either vigorously cursing or else you are idiotically pleased with yourself.

The happy people are failures because they are on such good terms with themselves they don't give a damn.

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.

Downstairs in the lounge, by the third pillar from the left, there sits an old lady with a sweet, placid, spinsterish face and a mind that has plumbed the depths of human iniquity and taken it all as in the day's work....where crime is concerned, she's the goods.