Death On The Nile Quotes

Love can be a very frightening thing.’ ‘That is why most great love stories are tragedies.

How true is the saying that man was forced to invent work in order to escape the strain of having to think.

It often seems to me that's all detective work is, wiping out your false starts and beginning again." "Yes, it is very true, that. And it is just what some people will not do. They conceive a certain theory, and everything has to fit into that theory. If one little fact will not fit it, they throw it aside. But it is always the facts that will not fit in that are significant.

Love is not everything, Mademoiselle,' Poirot said gently. 'It is only when we are young that we think it is.

Oh, I'm not afraid of death! What have I got to live for after all? I suppose you believe it's very wrong to kill a person who has injured you-even if they've taken away everything you had in the world?

They conceive a certain theory, and everything has to fit into that theory. If one little fact will not fit it, they throw it aside. But it is always the facts that will not fit in that are significant.

There's no reason why women shouldn't behave like rational beings," Simon asserted stolidly. Poirot said drily: "Quite frequently they do. That is even more upsetting!

A man doesn't want to feel that a woman cares more for him than he cares for her. He doesn't want to feel owned, body and soul. It's that damned possessive attitude. This man is mine---he belongs to me! He wants to get away --- to get free. He wants to own his woman; he doesn't want her to own him.(Simon Boyle)

La vie est vaine. Un peu d’amour, Un peu de haine, Et puis bonjour. La vie est brève. Un peu d’espoir, Un peu de rêve, Et puis bonsoir.

But then, how do you know?" "Because I am Hercule Poirot I do not need to be told.

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

It is not the past that matters,but the future

Mademoiselle, I beseech you, do not do what you are doing.” “Leave dear Linnet alone, you mean!” “It is deeper than that. Do not open your heart to evil.” Her lips fell apart; a look of bewilderment came into her eyes. Poirot went on gravely: “Because—if you do—evil will come…Yes, very surely evil will come…It will enter in and make its home within you, and after a little while it will no longer be possible to drive it out.

Yes, I like that—loyalty, I mean. It’s out of fashion nowadays. She’s an odd character, that girl—proud, reserved, stubborn, and terribly warm-hearted underneath, I fancy.

Use your eyes. Use your ears. Use your brains---if you've got any. And, if necessary--act.

Women, however charming, have this disadvantage: they distract the mind from food!

How absurd to call youth the time of happiness–youth, the time of greatest vulnerability!

Give up the past! Turn to the future! What is done is done. Bitterness will not undo it.

In fact the marriage has been arranged by heaven and Hercule Poirot. All I have to do is to compound a felony.

Your not reliable. You wouldn't be at all a comfortable sort of person to live with.

All three wore the air of superiority assumed by people who are already in a place when studying new arrivals.

It’s so dreadfully easy...killing people… And you begin to feel that it doesn’t matter…That it’s only you that matters! It’s dangerous...that.

It's awful, isn't it? This love business gets hold of you and you can't do anything about it.

Look at the moon up there. You see her very plainly, don't you? She's very real. But if the sun were to shine you wouldn't be able to see her at all. It was rather like that. I was the moon... When the sun came out, Simon couldn't see me anymore... He was dazzled. He couldn't see anything but the sun — Linnet.

Do we fear death? Of course. But it is death that makes room for birth, and the cycle of life is as natural as the rise and fall of the Nile. Death is our last and greatest duty.

Une qui aime et un qui se laisse aimer,

Paul turned her to face him. “I see a breathtaking woman scared to death to see how beautiful she actually is, a woman refusing to live because she has spent her entire life feeling inadequate in her appearance, a woman who has nothing to be ashamed of.

Mademoiselle, I speak as a friend. Bury your dead! ... Give up the past! Turn to the future! What is done is done. Bitterness will not undo it.' 'I'm sure that would suit dear Linnet admirably.' Poirot made a gesture. 'I am not thinking of her at this moment! I am thinking of you. You have suffered - yes - but what you are doing now will only prolong the suffering.

But after a while they stopped talking about her and discussed instead who was going to win the Grand National. For, as Mr Ferguson was saying at that minute in Luxor, it is not the past that matters but the future.

Motives for murder are sometimes very trivial, Madame.” “What are the most usual motives, Monsieur Poirot?” “Most frequent—money. That is to say, gain in its various ramifications. Then there is revenge—and love, and fear, and pure hate, and beneficence—” “Monsieur Poirot!” “Oh, yes, Madame. I have known of—shall we say A?—being removed by B solely in order to benefit C. Political murders often come under the same heading. Someone is considered to be harmful to civilization and is removed on that account. Such people forget that life and death are the affair of the good God.

But to succeed in life every detail should be arranged well beforehand.

How absurd to call youth the time of happiness—youth, the time of greatest vulnerability!

What a poisonous woman! Whew! Why didn’t somebody murder her!” “It may yet happen,” Poirot consoled him.

Ah, but people don't run true to form in love affairs.

When the sun shines you cannot see the moon," he said. "But when the sun is gone--ah, when the sun is gone.

Take the Pyramids. Great blocks of useless masonry, put up to minister to the egoism of a despotic bloated king. Think of the sweated masses who toiled to build them and died doing it. It makes me sick to think of the suffering and torture they represent." Mrs. Allerton said cheerfully: "You’d rather have no Pyramids, no Parthenon, no beautiful tombs or temples—just the solid satisfaction of knowing that people got three meals a day and died in their beds." The young man directed his scowl in her direction. "I think human beings matter more than stones.

I suggest to you that, although you may have endeavored to gloss over the fact to yourself, you did deliberately set about taking your husband from your friend. I suggest that you felt strongly attracted to him at once. But I suggest that there was a moment when you hesitated, when you realized that there was a choice–that you could refrain or go on. I suggest that the initiative rested with you–not with Monsieur Doyle. … You had everything, Madame, that life can offer. Your friend’s life was bound up in one person. You knew that, but, though you hesitated, you did not hold your hand. You stretched it out and, like the rich man in the Bible, you took the poor man’s one ewe lamb.

Love is not everything, Mademoiselle,’ Poirot said gently. ‘It is only when we are young that we think it is.

Linnet laughed. ‘Why, I haven’t got an enemy in the world.

An unfairness of the good God,

...when anything beautiful's dead, it's a loss to the world.

Mademoiselle, I beseech you, do not do what you are doing.” “Leave dear Linnet alone, you mean!” “It is deeper than that. Do not open your heart to evil.” Her lips fell apart; a look of bewilderment came into her eyes. Poirot went on gravely: “Because—if you do—evil will come…Yes, very surely evil will come…It will enter in and make its home within you, and after a little while it will no longer be possible to drive it out.” Jacqueline stared at him. Her glance seemed to waver, to flicker uncertainly. She said: “I—don’t know—” Then she cried out definitely, “You can’t stop me.” “No,” said Hercule Poirot. “I cannot stop you.” His voice was sad.

If there were only any peace in Egypt I should like it better," said Mrs. Allerton. "But you can never be alone anywhere. Someone is always pestering you for money, or offering you donkeys, or beads, or expeditions to native villages, or duck shooting.

Love is not everything, Mademoiselle,” Poirot said gently. “It is only when we are young that we think it is.

Poor Joanna's handwriting is rather noticeable―sprawls about all over the envelope like an inebriated spider.

Marriage will cure me, I expect. It always seems to have a very sobering effect on people.

Nowadays young people seem to think they can just go about doing anything they choose.

Their death was a truth that was both strange, and yet profoundly ordinary.

How absurd to call youth the time of happiness - youth, the time of greatest vulnerability! - Hercule Poirot in Death on the Nile

You have the clear brain. Yes, one cannot go back over the past. One must accept things as they are. And sometimes, Madame, that is all one can do—accept the consequences of one’s past deeds.

I read a lot of Agatha Christie's that fall of 1938 - maybe all of them. The Hercule Poirots, the Miss Marples. Death on the Nile, The Mysterious Affair at Styles, Murders .. on the links, .. at the vicarage, and.. on the Orient Express. I real them on the subway, at the deli, and in my bed alone. You can make what claims you will about the psychological nuance of Proust or the narrative scope of Tolstoy, but you can't argue that Mrs Christie fails to please. Her books are tremendously satisfying.

Poirot realized with a momentary flicker of amusement that he had not made himself popular by his critical attitude. Linnet was used to unqualified admiration of all she was or did. Hercule Poirot had sinned noticeably against this creed. Mrs Allerton, joining him,

Peter always brings death with him, along with spinach or nuts. He said he'd seen 20 cases of West Nile during the week and five deaths from it. He also said two people had died from food allergies. "They're so hungry they're taking their chances eating foods they're seriously allergic to," he said.

I aften hadde M. Blondin benyttet seg tre ganger av sitt kongelige privilegium - først var det en hertuginne, så en berømt veddeløpslord, og endelig var det en liten, komisk utseende mann med overveldende sorte mustasjer. En tilfeldig tilskuer ville knapt tenke seg at Chez Ma Tante kunne være synderlig beæret ved hans besøk.

Streams of conscious ‘knowing’ flows like the Nile when one is open from within.

I smelled war on the horizon, with more deaths and trouble to come" Bombing of the Twin Towers From Rape of a Nation by Sara Niles

It is irregular. I know it is irregular. Yes. But I have a high regard for human happiness. “ “You have none for mine!” said Race.

But then, how do you know?' 'Because I am Hercule Poirot! I do not need to be told.

to succeed in life every detail should be arranged well beforehand.

I have learned to save myself useless emotion

cedar tree.

It’s so dreadfully easy—killing people. And you begin to feel that it doesn’t matter…that it’s only you that matters!

لا أرى سبباً يدفعك إلى النكد. إن الأمر لا يستحق إلاّ مشاعر الحزن العميق

من المرعب أن يكرهك الناس حتى دون أن يعرفوك

Such people forget that life and death are the affair of the good God.

Because I am Hercule Poirot, I do not need to be told.

I can assure you, it is not so gay as it sounds.

¡Qué absurdo llamar a la juventud el tiempo de la felicidad! ¡La juventud es la edad de mayor vulnerabilidad!" (Muerte en el Nilo)

Do people interest you too, Monsieur Poirot? Or do you reserve your interest for potential criminals?” “Madame—that category would not leave many people outside it.

Death, well done, is a gateway from this world into another. It needn’t be the end of anything. - Cleopatra

She is in love—heart, soul, and body—and she is not of those who love lightly and often.

Well, here’s to crime

The fires that burn deep within our hearts, fueling our deepest loves are indestructible; the power of the human spirit surpasses even death and life.

Well, you know, bigamy is bigamy.

Women, however charming, have this disadvantage: They distract the mind from food! You

The fat woman in purple was looking radiant…Undoubtedly the fat had certain compensations in life…a zest—a gusto—denied to those of more fashionable contours.

So, if I lost all my money, you'd drop me tomorrow?' 'Yes, darling, I would. You can't say I'm not honest about it! I only like successful people. And you'll find that's true of nearly everybody - only most people won't admit it. They just say that really they "can't put up with Mary or Emily or Pamela any more! Her troubles have made her so bitter and peculiar, poor dear!

Fey?” Mrs. Allerton put her head on one side as she considered her reply. “Well, it’s a Scottish word, really. It means the kind of exalted happiness that comes before disaster. You know—it’s too good to be true.

suppose you believe it’s very wrong to kill a person who has injured you—even if they’ve taken away everything you had in the world?” Poirot said steadily: “Yes, Mademoiselle. I believe it is the unforgivable offence—to kill.

The sun would still rise, the seasons would still come, life would continue. I was thankful to have been a part of it; I would take the memories and savor them for the life ahead. I had been given the components that would comprise the fate of my destiny; they had aged into my soul so that part of the past would always remain with me. They would be there for me to draw strength from on days in my future when death would seem a triumph and life too hard to live any more.

Look at the moon up there. You see her very plainly, don’t you? She’s very real. But if the sun were to shine you wouldn’t be able to see her at all. It was rather like that. I was the moon…When the sun came out, Simon couldn’t see me any more…He was dazzled. He couldn’t see anything but the sun–Linnet.

Osiris, to go directly to the important part of this, was not a "dying god," not "life caught in the spell of death," or "a dead god," as modern interpreters have said. He was the hallucinated voice of a dead king whose admonitions could still carry weight. And since he could still be heard, there is no paradox in the fact that the body from which the voice once came should be mummified, with all the equipment of the tomb providing life's necessities: food, drink, slaves, women, the lot. There was no mysterious power that emanated from him; simply his remembered voice which appeared in hallucination to those who had known him and which could admonish or suggest even as it has before he stopped moving and breathing. And that various natural phenomena such as the whispering of waves could act as the cue for such hallucinations accounts for the belief that Osiris, or the king whose body has ceased to move and is in his mummy cloths, continues to control the flooding of the Nile. Further, the relationship between Horus and Osiris, 'embodied' in each new king and his dead father forever, can only be understood as the assimilation of an hallucinated advising voice into the king's own voice, which then would be repeated with the next generation.

Thus he shut himself up, he lived there, he was absolutely satisfied with it, leaving on one side the prodigious questions which attract and terrify, the fathomless perspectives of abstraction, the precipices of metaphysics—all those profundities which converge, for the apostle in God, for the atheist in nothingness; destiny, good and evil, the way of being against being, the conscience of man, the thoughtful somnambulism of the animal, the transformation in death, the recapitulation of existences which the tomb contains, the incomprehensible grafting of successive loves on the persistent I, the essence, the substance, the Nile, and the Ens, the soul, nature, liberty, necessity; perpendicular problems, sinister obscurities, where lean the gigantic archangels of the human mind; formidable

The early and relatively sophisticated Egyptians understood that their civilization would be threatened if they bred with the Negroes to their south, so pharaohs went so far as "to prevent the mongrelization of the Egyptian race" by making it a death penalty-eligible offense to bring blacks into Egypt. The ancient Egyptians even constructed a fort on the Nile in central Egypt to prevent blacks from immigrating to their lands. In spite of the efforts by the Egyptian government to defend their civilization, blacks still came to Egypt as soldiers, slaves, and captives from other nations. By 1,500 B.C., half of the population of southern Egypt was of mixed blood, and by 688 B.C., societal progress had ended in Egypt when Taharka became the first mulatto pharaoh. By 332 B.C., Egypt had fallen when Alexander the Great conquered the region.

In 1907, Haber was the first to obtain nitrogen, the main nutrient required for plant growth, directly from the air. In this way, from one day to the next, he addressed the scarcity of fertilizer that threatened to unleash an unprecedented global famine at the beginning of the twentieth century. Had it not been for Haber, hundreds of millions of people who until then had depended on natural fertilizers such as guano and saltpetre for their crops would have died from lack of nourishment. In prior centuries, Europe’s insatiable hunger had driven bands of Englishmen as far as Egypt to despoil the tombs of the ancient pharaohs, in search not of gold, jewels or antiquities, but of the nitrogen contained in the bones of the thousands of slaves buried along with the Nile pharaohs, as sacrificial victims, to serve them even after their deaths. The English tomb raiders had exhausted the reserves in continental Europe; they dug up more than three million human skeletons, along with the bones of hundreds of thousands of dead horses that soldiers had ridden in the battles of Austerlitz, Leipzig and Waterloo, sending them by ship to the port of Hull in the north of England, where they were ground in the bone mills of Yorkshire to fertilize the verdant fields of Albion.

Apophis the god of Chaos Anubis the god of funerals and death Babi the baboon god Bast the cat goddess Bes the dwarf god Disturber a god of judgement who works for Osiris Geb the earth god Gengen-Wer the goose god Hapi the god of the Nile Heket the frog goddess Horus the war god, son of Isis and Osiris Isis the goddess of magic, wife of her brother Osiris and mother of Horus Khepri the scarab god, Ra’s aspect in the morning Khonsu the moon god Mekhit minor lion goddess, married to Onuris Neith the hunting goddess Nekhbet the vulture goddess Nut the sky goddess Osiris the god of the Underworld, husband of Isis and father of Horus Ra the sun god, the god of order; also known as Amun-Ra Sekhmet the lion goddess Serqet the scorpion goddess Set the god of evil Shu the air god, great-grandfather of Anubis Sobek the crocodile god Tawaret the hippo goddess Thoth the god of knowledge

Mrs Allerton said cheerfully: 'You'd rather have no Pyramid, no Parthenon, no beautiful tombs or temples - just the solid satisfaction of knowing that people got three meals a day and died in their beds.' The young man directed his scowl in her direction. 'I think human beings matter more than stones.' 'But they do not endure as well,' remarked Hercule Poirot. 'I'd rather see a well fed worker than any so-called work of art. What matters is the future - not the past.

Casabianca" The boy stood on the burning deck Whence all but he had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead. Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form. The flames rolled on–he would not go Without his Father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard. He called aloud–'say, Father, say If yet my task is done?' He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son. 'Speak, father!' once again he cried, 'If I may yet be gone!' And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on. Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death In still yet brave despair. And shouted but once more aloud, 'My father! must I stay?' While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way. They wrapt the ship in splendour wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky. There came a burst of thunder sound– The boy–oh! where was he? Ask of the winds that far around With fragments strewed the sea!– With mast, and helm, and pennon fair, That well had borne their part– But the noblest thing which perished there Was that young faithful heart. Notes: Young Casabianca, a boy about thirteen years old, son of the admiral of the Orient, remained at his post (in the Battle of the Nile), after the ship had taken fire, and all the guns had been abandoned; and perished in the explosion of the vessel, when the flames had reached the powder.

Seven days west of Katañga flows another Lualaba, the dividing line between Rua and Lunda or Londa; it is very large, and as the Lufira flows into Chibungo, it is probable that the Lualaba West and the Lufira form the Lake. Lualaba West and Lufira rise by fountains south of Katañga, three or four days off. Luambai and Lunga fountains are only about ten miles distant from Lualaba West and Lufira fountains: a mound rises between them, the most remarkable in Africa. Were this spot in Armenia it would serve exactly the description of the garden of Eden in Genesis, with its four rivers, the Gihon, Pison, Hiddekel, and Euphrates; as it is, it possibly gave occasion to the story told to Herodotus by the Secretary of Minerva in the City of Saïs, about two hills with conical tops, Crophi and Mophi. "Midway between them," said he, "are the fountains of the Nile, fountains which it is impossible to fathom: half the water runs northward into Egypt; half to the south towards Ethiopia.

How are you off for drink? We have got everything in the world on board here. Can you catch?’ and almost immediately a large bottle of champagne was thrown from the gunboat to the shore. It fell in the waters of the Nile, but happily where a gracious Providence decreed them to be shallow and the bottom soft. I nipped into the water up to my knees, and reaching down seized the precious gift which we bore in triumph back to our mess. This kind of war was full of fascinating thrills. It was not like the Great War. Nobody expected to be killed. Here and there in every regiment or battalion, half a dozen, a score, at the worst thirty or fourty, would pay forfeit; but to the great mass of those who took part in the little wars of Britain in those vanished and light-hearted days, this was only a sporting element in a splendid game. Most of us were fated to se a war where the hazards were reversed, where death was the general expectation and severe wounds were counted as lucky escapes, where whole brigades were shorn away under the steel flail of artillery and machine-guns, where the survivors of one tornado knew that they would certainly be consumed in the next or the next after that. Everything depends upon the scale of events. We young men who lay down to sleep that night within three miles of 60,000 well-armed fanatical Dervishes, expecting every moment their violent onset or inrush and sure of fighting at latest with the dawn – we may perhaps be pardoned if we thought we were at grips with real war.

She dressed carefully in her favorite shade: pale green, more delicate than the earliest leaves, known as “waters of the Nile,” or in the far more sophisticated French “eau de Nil.” It was the softest silk, floating when she moved, and the sheen of it caught the light. Naturally it was the latest cut: soft at the shoulder and neck, smooth and slender at the hip. Pearls might have been more appropriate considering the name of the color, but she wore diamonds. She wanted the fire and the sparkle.

Like a helpless maiden from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Antinous, pursued by a proto-god – Hadrian – slipped into a river and was transformed. His life became incidental; his death in the waters of the Nile and his resurrection as a god, as a star, as (possibly) saviour of Hadrian, as the inspiration of a city, was his whole story. He gazed out implacably over the empire; still gazes, passively, in art collections throughout the Western world, a Galatea turned to stone. The mystery of Antinous will always be more powerful in his absence than it could ever have been in his presence. But if one attempts to examine the story more closely, to move behind the placid beauty, behind the unforgettable image, Antinous starts to slip away.

One last element remained for the consecration of the Children of Israel. On the fourteenth day of the first month of Nisan the people all kept the Passover meal in their new base of operations at Gilgal on the plains of Jericho. The Passover was a feast that commemorated God’s tenth and final plague on Egypt, the death of the first-born. Before their exodus from Egyptian slavery the Israelites were commanded by Yahweh to slaughter a lamb and brush its blood over the doorposts of their homes. The Destroyer then came to kill the first-born of every family in Egypt, but passed over those with the blood on their lintels. It was the last plague that Yahweh sent on Pharaoh to bend his will. When Pharaoh’s own son succumbed to the Angel of Death, it did not merely bend Pharaoh, it broke him, and he let Moses and his people leave the land of the Nile.

Jangan pikirkan lagi masa lalu! Berpalinglah pada masa yang akan datang! Apa yang telah terjadi, sudahlah. Kepahitan tidak akan mengubahnya.” - Hercule Poirot, Death on the Nile, page 93

Manifested in its networks of tithing, collection and supply, the efficacy of this unique culture was reaffirmed at the beginning of every reign when the state machine began to build another pyramid. So the architecture of the pyramid complexes manifests the living systems of that state in good hard stone, and the structures of tithing and supply which had enabled their construction continued to be acted out in dramatic continuation after pharaoh’s death in rites of offering. Like the inhabitants of the early farming settlements, at Abusir, the state system operated within the archaic theatres of life and death. These are the fundamental principles that explain all of the surviving manifestations of the pharaonic kingdom of the lower Nile. It was not a complex system. Though to modern minds its splendidly sophisticated and often enigmatic relics might first suggest the operation of a near-modern state with an elaborate theology, in reality they are a millennial duplication, elegant, consistent and concise, of a single set of rites – the rites of presentation and of offering, on which the state was founded.

They know too much, you see, of the possibilities that may arise. When one is motoring one might easily say to oneself: ‘If a car came out from that crossroad—or if that lorry backed suddenly—or if the wheel came off the car that is approaching—or if a dog jumped off the hedge on to my driving arm—eh bien, I should probably be killed!’ But one assumes, and usually rightly, that none of these things will happen, and that one will get to one’s journey’s end. But if, of course, one has been in an accident, or seen one or more accidents, then one is inclined to take the opposite point of view.

reproachfully.

Simon Doyle was frowning a little. He belonged to that type of men of action who find it difficult to put thoughts into words and who have trouble in expressing themselves clearly.

Ach! That.” Race

He said: ‘Do you really like Majorca, Mother?’ ‘Well,’ Mrs Allerton considered, ‘it’s cheap.’ ‘And cold,’ said Tim with a slight shiver.