Books Are A Habit-forming Drug.

That Is What I Mean. A Bath! The Receptacle Of Porcelain, One Turns The Taps And Fills It, One Gets In, One Gets Out And Ghoosh - Ghoosh - Ghoosh, The Water Goes Down The Waste Pipe!" "m. Poirot Are You Quite Mad?" "no, I Am Extremely Sane.

There Hung About Her The Restrained Energy Of A Whiplash.

How Often Have I Not Heard A Perfectly Intelligent Female Says, In The Tone Of One Clinching An Argument, 'edgar Says -- ' And All The Time You Are Perfectly Aware That Edgar Is A Perfect Fool.

She Was A Lucky Woman Who Had Established A Happy Knack Of Writing What Quite A Lot Of People Wanted To Read.

Evil Is Not Something Superhuman, It's Something Less Than Human.