The Abc Murders Quotes

Words, madmoiselle, are only the outer clothing of ideas.

It's like all those quiet people, when they do lose their tempers they lose them with a vengeance.

Our weapon is our knowledge. But remember, it may be a knowledge we may not know that we possess.

Speech, so a wise old Frenchman said to me once, is an invention of man's to prevent him from thinking.

Who are you? You don't belong to the police?' 'I am better than the police,' said Poirot. He said it without conscious arrogance. It was, to him, a simple statement of fact.

I admit," I said, "that a second murder in a book often cheers things up." - Hastings

If the little grey cells are not exercised, they grow the rust.

There is nothing so terrible as to live in an atmosphere of suspicion - to see eyes watching you and the love in them changing to fear - nothing so terrible as to suspect those near and dear to you - It is poisonous - a miasma.

If one could order a crime as one does a dinner, what would you choose? . . . Let’s review the menu. Robbery? Frogery? No, I think not. Rather too vegetarian. It must be murder—red-blooded murder—with trimmings, of course.

The spoken word and the written - there is an astonishing gulf between them. There is a way of turning sentences that completely reverses the meaning.

Try and vary your methods as you will, your tastes, your habits, your attitude of mind, and your soul is revealed by your actions.

Death, mademoiselle, unfortunately creates a prejudice. A prejudice in favour of the deceased... There is a great charity always to the dead.

...Murder, I have often noticed, is a great matchmaker.

Death, mademoiselle, unfortunately creates a prejudice. A prejudice in favour of the deceased. I heard what you said just now to my friend Hastings. ‘A nice bright girl with no men friends.’ You said that in mockery of the newspapers. And it is very true—when a young girl is dead, that is the kind of thing that is said. She was bright. She was happy. She was sweet-tempered. She had not a care in the world. She had no undesirable acquaintances. There is a great charity always to the dead. Do you know what I should like this minute? I should like to find someone who knew Elizabeth Barnard and who does not know she is dead! Then, perhaps, I should hear what is useful to me—the truth.

But I believe in luck - in destiny, if you will. It is your destiny to stand beside me and prevent me from committing the unforgivable error." "What do you call the unforgivable error?" "Overlooking the obvious.!

In the midst of tragedy we start the comedy.

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.

Romance can be a by-product of crime.

You yourself are English and yet you do not seem to appreciate the quality of the English reaction to a direct question. It is invariably one of suspicion and the natural result is reticence.

His mind, shrinking from reality, ran for safety along these unimportant details.

The human and personal element can never be ignored.

Words, mademoiselle, are only the outer clothing of ideas.

I suppose next time I come home I shall find you wearing false moustaches—or are you doing so now?' Poirot winced. His moustaches had always been his sensitive point. He was inordinately proud of them. My words touched him on the raw. 'No, no, indeed, mon ami. That day, I pray the good God, is still far off. The false moustaches! Quelle Horreur!’ He tugged at them vigorously to assure me of their genuine character. 'Well, they are very luxuriant still,' I said. 'N’est-ce pas? Never, in the whole of London, have I seen a pair of moustaches to equal mine.' A good job too, I thought privately.

And then?" "And then," said Poirot. "We will talk! Je vous assure, Hastings - there is nothing so dangerous for anyone who has something to hide as conversation! Speech, so a wise old Frenchman said to me once, is an invention of man's to prevent him from thinking. It is also an infallible means of discovering that which he wishes to hide. A human being, Hastings, cannot resist the opportunity to reveal himself and express his personality which conversation gives him. Every time he will give himself away." "What do you expect Cust to tell you?" Hercule Poirot smiled. "A lie," he said. "And by it, I shall know the truth!

To say a man does mad things because he is mad is merely unintelligent and stupid. A madman is as logical and reasoned in his action as a sane man--given his peculiar biased point of view. For example, if a man insists on going out and squatting about in nothing but a loin cloth his conduct seems eccentric in the extreme. But once you know that the man himself is firmly convinced that he is Mahatma Gandhi, then his conduct becomes perfectly reasonable and logical.

A madman is a very dangerous thing.

There is nothing so dangerous for any one who has something to hide as conversation!

It's often when you're talking over things that you seem to see your way clear. Your mind gets made up for you sometimes without your knowing how it's happened. Talking leads to a lot of things one way or another.

Women were very queer. Unexpectedly cruel and unexpectedly kind.

Speech, so a wise old Frenchman said to me once, is an invention of man's to prevent him from thinking. It is also an infallible means of discovering that which he wishes to hide.

What do you call the unforgivable error?” “Overlooking the obvious.

In my day if a man was mad he was mad and we didn’t look about for scientific terms to soften it down.

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.

you have the beautiful and unsuspicious mind. Years do not change that in you! You perceive a fact and mention the solution of it in the same breath without noticing that you are doing so!

You don’t question the right of the government to kill, to confiscate and imprison. If a private person should be guilty of the things the government is doing all the time, you’d brand him a murderer, thief and scoundrel. But as long as the violence committed is “lawful,” you approve of it and submit to it. So it is not really violence that you object to, but to people using violence “unlawfully.

When I know what the murderer is like, I shall be able to find out who he is.

Speech, so a wise old Frenchman said to me once, is an invention of man’s to prevent him from thinking.

You’re a man milliner, Poirot. I never notice what people have on.” “You should join a nudist colony.” As

what is often called an intuition is really an impression based on logical deduction or experience.

One's body is a nuisance, M. Poirot, especially when it gets the upper hand. One is conscious of nothing else-- whether the pain will hold off or not--nothing else seems to matter.

But man was a ridiculous animal anyway....

deadly logic is one of the special characteristics of acute mania.

In fact there is only your own instinct? Not instinct, Hastings. Instinct is a bad word. It is my knowledge-my experience-that tells me that something about that letter is wrong-

... Some people, under a nervous and self-effacing manner, conceal a great deal of vanity and self-satisfaction.

Even the most sober of us is liable to have his head turned by success.

A madman in particular has always a very strong reason for the crimes he commits.

Not instinct, Hastings. Instinct is a bad word. It is my knowledge—my experience—that tells me that something about that letter is wrong—

I know, Hastings—I know. The spoken word and the written—there is an astonishing gulf between them. There is a way of turning sentences that completely reverses the original meaning.

In a well-balanced, reasoning mind there is no such thing as an intuition - an inspired guess! You can guess, of course - and a guess is either right or wrong. If it is right you can call it an intuition. If it is wrong you usually do not speak of it again. But what is often called an intuition is really impression based on logical deduction or experience. When an expert feels that there is something wrong about a picture or a piece of furniture or the signature on a cheque he is really basing that feeling on a host of a small signs and details. He has no need to go into them minutely - his experience obviates that - the net result is the definite impression that something is wrong. But it is not a guess, it is an impression based on experience.

In the name of patriotism you are ordered to stop being decent and honest, to cease being yourself, to suspend your own judgment, and give up your life; to become a will-less cog in a murderous machine, blindly obeying the order to kill, pillage, and destroy; to give up your father and mother, wife and child, and all that you love, and proceed to slaughter your fellow-men who never did you any harm — who are just as unfortunate and deluded victims of their masters as you are of yours.

appears Strange was a whale on dominoes and to his surprise Cust was pretty hot stuff too. Queer game, dominoes. People go mad about it. They’ll play for hours. That’s what Strange and Cust did apparently. Cust wanted to go to bed but Strange wouldn’t hear of it—swore they’d keep it up until midnight at least. And that’s what they did do.

—And catch a fox And put him in a box And never let him go.

The happiness of one man and one woman is the greatest thing in all the world

It is looking for the needle in the haystack, I grant—but in the haystack there is a needle—of that I am convinced!

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.

A murderer is always a gambler. And, like many gamblers, a murderer often does not know when to stop.

He never left the cinema very quickly. It always took him a moment or two to return to the prosaic reality of everyday life.

What do you expect Cust to tell you?" Hercule Poirot smiled. "A lie," he said. "And by it, I shall know the truth!

You can't rightly estimate what a man will do when he's in drink.

Death, mademoiselle, unfortunately creates a prejudice. A prejudice in favour of the deceased.

there isn't such a thing as a murderer who commits crimes at random. Either he removes people who stand (however insignificantly) in his path, or else he kills by conviction.

I recalled the leering drunken old man, and the toil-worn face of the dead woman—and I shivered a little at the remorselessness of time….

Is it that you have not in any degree the common sense, Hastings ?

But why? What earthly benefit can accrue from such a crime—even in the most diseased imagination?

The intense interest aroused in the public by what was known at the time as "The Styles Case" has now somewhat subsided.

But what is often called an intuition is really an impression based on logical deduction or experience.

There are times when it is one’s duty to assert oneself.

So in crime the murderer who is successful cannot conceive the possibility of not being successful! He takes to himself all the credit for a successful performance—but I tell you, my friends, however carefully planned, no crime can be successful without luck!

Speech, so a wise old Frenchman said to me once, is an invention of man’s to prevent him from thinking. It is also an infallible means of discovering that which he wishes to hide. A human being, Hastings, cannot resist the opportunity to reveal himself and express his personality which conversation gives him. Every time he will give himself away.

A murderer is always a gambler. And, like many gamblers, a murderer often does not know when to stop. With each crime his opinion of his own abilities is strengthened. His sense of proportion is warped. He does not say, 'I have been clever and lucky!' No, he says only, 'l have been clever!' And his opinion of his cleverness grows... and then, roes amis, the ball spins

Exactly, Hastings. And that is where the gambler (and the murderer, who is, after all, only a supreme kind of gambler since what he risks is not his money but his life) often lacks intelligent anticipation. Because he has won he thinks he will continue to win! He does not leave the tables in good time with his pockets full. So in crime the murderer who is successful cannot conceive the possibility of not being successful! He takes to himself all the credit for a successful performance--but I tell you, my friends, however carefully planned no crime can be successful without luck!

But if you are a sufficiently great and important person, it is necessary that you should be spared small annoyances. If a fly settles on your forehead again and again, maddening you by its tickling--what do you do? You endeavour to kill that fly. You have no qualms about it. You are important--the fly is not. You kill the fly and the annoyance ceases. Your action appears to you sane and justifiable. Another reason for killing a fly is if you have a strong passion for hygiene. The fly is a potential source of danger to the community--the fly must go. So works the mind of the mentally deranged criminal.

The brutality of the regime knows no bounds. It does not remain neutral towards the people here; it creates beasts in its own image out of ordinary people who might have been neighbors instead. Even more dangerous was the fact that the fundamentals of humanity and the ABCs of life have been eviscerated from the hearts of many people here. State television destroys human compassion, the sort of fundamental empathy that is not contingent upon a political or even a cultural orientation, and through which one human being can relate to another. The al-Dunya channel stirs up hatred, broadcasts fake news and maligns any opposing viewpoint. I wasn't the only one subjected to internet attacks by the security services and the Ba'thists, even if the campaign against me may be fiercer because I come from the Alawite community and have a lot of family connections to them -- because I am a woman and it's supposedly easier to break me with rumors and character assassinations and insults. Some of my actress friends who expressed sympathy for the children of Dar'a and called for an end to the siege of the city were subjected to a campaign of character assassinations and called traitors, then forced to appear on state television in order to clarify their position. Friends who expressed sympathy for the families of the martyrs would get insulted, they would be called traitors and accused of being foreign spies. People became afraid to show even a little bit of sympathy for one another, going against the basic facts of life, the slightest element of what could be called the laws of human nature -- that is, if we indeed agree that sympathy is part of human nature in the first place. Moral and metaphorical murder is being carried out as part of a foolproof plan, idiotic but targeted, stupid yet leaving a mark on people's souls.

U moje vreme ako je neko bio lud, bio je lud, i nismo se služili naučnom terminologijom da bismo to ublažili.

Poirot sighed.

Précisément.

Drink up your wine,' ordered Poirot.

İçini çekti. Fakat ben şansa, kadere inanırım. Senin kaderinde benim yanımda bulunmak ve benim affedilemeyecek bir hata işlememe engel olmak...

She was obviously wearing her best clothes and had the self-conscious, wooden smile on her face that so often disfigures the expression in posed photography, and makes a snapshot preferable.

macaroni au gratin.

I admit that the second murder in the book often cheers things up.

I shall, I think, remember that 11th of September all my life.

You can guess, of course - and a guess is either right or wrong. If it is right you call it intuition, if it is wrong, you usually do not speak of it again

However preoccupied the mind may be, the eye notices mechanically—unintelligently but accurately…

You mean that luck turns?’ ‘Exactly, Hastings. And that is where the gambler (and the murderer, who is, after all, only a supreme kind of gambler since what he risks is not his money but his life) often lacks intelligent anticipation. Because he has won he thinks he will continue to win! He does not leave the tables in good time with his pocket full.

Precisely. A murderer is always a gambler. And, like many gamblers, a murderer often does not know when to stop. With each crime his opinion of his own abilities is strengthened. His sense of proportion is warped. He does not say “I have been clever and lucky!” No, he says only “I have been clever!

The Mysterious Affair at Styles [1920] ❑  The Murder on the Links [1923] ❑  The Regatta Mystery and Other Stories (US Short Story Collection) [1939] ❑  Poirot Investigates (Short Story Collection) [1924] ❑  Poirot’s Early Cases (Short Story Collection) [1974] ❑  The Murder of Roger Ackroyd [1926] ❑ The Big Four [1927] ❑  The Mystery of the Blue Train [1928] ❑ Peril at End House [1932] ❑ Lord Edgware Dies [1933] ❑  Murder on the Orient Express [1934] ❑ Three Act Tragedy [1935] ❑ Death in the Clouds [1935] ❑  Poirot and the Regatta Mystery (Published in The Complete Short Stories: Hercule Poirot) [1936] ❑ The ABC Murders [1936] ❑ Murder in Mesopotamia [1936] ❑ Cards on the Table [1936] ❑  The Witness for the Prosecution and Other Stories (US Short Story Collection) [1948] ❑  Murder in the Mews (Short Story Collection) [1938] ❑ Dumb Witness [1937] ❑ Death on the Nile [1937] ❑ Appointment with Death [1937] ❑ Hercule Poirot’s Christmas [1938] ❑ Sad Cypress [1940] ❑  One, Two Buckle My Shoe [1940] ❑ Evil Under the Sun [1941] ❑ Five Little Pigs [1942] ❑ The Hollow [1946] ❑  The Labours of Hercules (Short Story Collection) [1947] ❑ Taken at the Flood [1945] ❑ Mrs. McGinty’s Dead [1952] ❑ After the Funeral [1953] ❑ Hickory Dickory Dock [1955] ❑  Hercule Poirot and the Greenshore Folly [2014] ❑ Dead Man’s Folly [1956] ❑ Cat Among the Pigeons [1959] ❑  Double Sin and Other Stories (US Short Story Collection) [1961] ❑  The Under Dog and Other Stories (US Short Story Collection) [1951] ❑  The Harlequin Tea Set and Other Stories (US Short Story Collection) [1997] ❑ The Clocks [1963] ❑ Third Girl [1966] ❑ Hallowe’en Party [1969] ❑ Elephants Can Remember [1972] ❑ Curtain: Poirot’s Last Case [1975]

He had the resolute competent manner of a man accustomed to meeting with emergencies.

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.

you do not seem to appreciate the quality of the English reaction to a direct question. It is invariably one of suspicion and the natural result is reticence.

And it is very true—when a young girl is dead, that is the kind of thing that is said. She was bright. She was happy. She was sweet-tempered. She had not a care in the world. She had no undesirable acquaintances. There is a great charity always to the dead. Do you know what I should like this minute? I should like to find someone who knew Elizabeth Barnard and who does not know she is dead! Then, perhaps, I should hear what is useful to me—the truth.

“You’re looking in fine fettle, Poirot,†I said. “You’

Poirot, who seemed pleased with himself, hummed a little tune.

People with nothing better to do and a bit weak in the top storey sit down and write ’em. They don’t mean any harm! Just a kind of excitement.

Who are you? You don’t belong to the police?” “I am better than the police,” said Poirot. He said it without conscious arrogance. It was, to him, a simple statement of fact.

the postman’s familiar rat-tat sounded on the door, our hearts beat faster with apprehension.

Franklin Clarke shook hands with each of us in turn and in each case the handshake was accompanied by a piercing look.

The fly is a potential source of danger to the community—the fly must go. So works the mind of the mentally deranged criminal.

The house he had built was of modern design—a white rectangle

But why? What earthly benefit can accrue from such a crime—even in the most diseased imagination?” Poirot nodded his head in approval.