Poirot," I said. "I have been thinking." "An admirable exercise my friend. Continue it.
Agatha ChristieRead
A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.
Interpretation
A mother's love is unparalleled and unconditional, transcending all obstacles.
This quote emphasizes the extraordinary and unwavering nature of a mother's love for her child. It suggests that a mother's devotion is fierce and limitless, willing to overcome any challenge or adversity without remorse, highlighting the profound bond between a mother and her child.
In practice
In a speech at a motherhood celebration, one might say, 'As Agatha Christie said, a mother's love knows no bounds.'
Poirot," I said. "I have been thinking." "An admirable exercise my friend. Continue it.
Best of an island is once you get there - you can't go any farther...you've come to the end of things.
Where large sums of money are concerned, it is advisable to trust nobody.
I have wanted . . . to commit a murder myself. I recognized this as the desire of the artist to express himself! . . . But-incongruous as it may seem to some-I was restrained and hampered by my innate sense of justice. The innocent must not suffer.
Sitting here with one's knitting, one just sees the facts. -"The Blood-Stained Pavement
No, my friend, I am not drunk. I have just been to the dentist, and need not return for another six months! Is it not the most beautiful thought? --Poirot
Well, here he was. They could save each other, the way the poets promised lovers should. He was mystery, he was darkness, he was all she had dreamed of. And if she would only free him he would service her - oh yes - until her pleasure reached that threshold that, like all thresholds, was a place where the strong grew stronger, and the weak perished. Pleasure was pain there, and vice versa. And he knew it well enough to call it home.
In uncertainty I am certain that underneath their topmost layers of frailty men want to be good and want to be loved. Indeed most of their vices are attempted short cuts to love. When a man comes to die, no matter what his talents and influence and genius, if he dies unloved his life must be a failure to him and his dying a cold horror.
If it had been easy for Romeo to get to Juliet, nobody would have cared. Same goes for Cyrano and Don Quixote and Gatsby and their respective paramours. What captures the imagination is watching men throw themselves at a brick wall over and over again, and wondering if this is the time that they won't be able to get back up.
But I love you I'm totally and completely in love with you and I don't care if you think it's too late. I'm telling you anyway.
But who can distinguish between falling in love and imagining falling in love? Even genuinely falling in love is an act of the imagination.
Once that living love is destroyed by contraception, abortion follows very easily.
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