Archive for March, 2010


http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/5/57/The_Murder_of_Roger_Ackroyd_First_Edition_Cover_1926.jpg

It is odd, when you have a secret belief of your own which you do not wish to acknowledge, the. voicing of it by someone else will rouse you to a fury of denial.

Had she taken her own life? Surely, if she had done so, she would have left some word behind to say what she contemplated doing? Women, in my experience, if they once reach the determination to commit suicide, usually wish to reveal the state of mind that led to the fatal action. They covet the limelight. [ i do not agree men covet the limelight equally…….if not more]

Do not disquiet yourself. It is not with me a habit. But you can figure to yourself, monsieur, that a man may work towards a certain object,  may labour and toil to attain a certain kind of leisure and occupation, and then find that, after all, he yearns for the old busy days, and the old occupations that he thought himself so glad to leave?”The chains of habit. We work to attain an object, and the object gained, we find that what we miss is the daily toil.

The most interesting work there is in the world.”The study of human nature, monsieur!

I risked the substance forthe shadow.’


 

 

One can press a man as far as one likes – but with a woman one must not press too far. For a woman has at heart  a great desire to speak the truth. How many husbands who have deceived their wives go comfortably to their graves, carrying their secret with them! How many wives who have deceived their husbands wreck their lives by throwing the fact in those same husbands’ teeth! They have been pressed too far. In a reckless moment (which they will afterwards regret, bien entendu) they fling safety to the winds and turn at bay, proclaiming the truth with great momentary satisfaction to themselves.

Ten Little Indians

Ten little Indian boys went out to dine;

One choked his little self and then there were nine.

Nine little Indian boys sat up very late;

One overslept himself and then there were eight.

Eight little Indian boys traveling in Devon;

One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.

Seven little Indian boys chopping up sticks;

One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

Six little Indian boys playing with a hive;

A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.

Five little Indian boys going in for law,

One got in Chancery and then there were four.

Four little Indian boys going out to sea;

A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

Three little Indian boys walking in the Zoo;

A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

Two little Indian boys sitting in the sun;

On got frizzled up and then there was one.

One little Indian boy left all alone;

He went and hanged himself and then there were none.

“Every one made such a fuss over things nowadays! They wanted injections before they had teeth pulled–they took drugs if they couldn’t sleep–they wanted easy chairs and cushions and the girls allowed their figures to slop about anyhow and lay about half naked on the beaches in summer.”
– Agatha Christie, And Then There Were None, Ch. 1

“There is no question of defence. I have always acted in accordance with the dictates of my conscience. I have nothing with which to reproach myself.”
– Agatha Christie, And Then There Were None, Ch. 4

A cool customer, he should imagine-and one who could hold her
own-in love or war. He’d rather like to take her on. .
There was something magical about an island-the mere word suggested fantasy. You   lost touch with the world-an island was a world of its own. A world, perhaps,   from which you might never return. He thought: “I’m leaving my ordinary life behind me.”  And, smiling to himself, he began to make plans, fantastic plans for the future.
All  doctors are damned fools. Harley Street ones are the worst of the lot.”