I just woke up feeling happy this morning. You know those days when everything in the world seems right.

Nurses - nurses, you'm all the same. Full of cheerfulness over other people's troubles.

One of us in this very room is in fact the murderer.

It's very inconvenient to be loved. Nearly everyone has found that out, sooner or later. The fewer people who love you the less you will have to suffer.

No sign, so far, of anything sinister—but I live in hope.

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.

Ideas are like everything else. They've got to be marketed.