Quotes About Suspicion

But I always find it prudent to suspect everybody just a little. What I say is, you really never know, do you?

What does one say to a woman who has just killed her husband?

There are crimes that cannot be brought home to their perpetrators. Instance the Rogerses'. Another instance, old Wargrave, who committed his murder strictly within the law.

They found he'd had a lethal dose of something that only a doctor could pronounce properly. As far as I remember it sounds vaguely like di-flor, hexagonal-ethylcarbenzol. That's not the right name. But that's roughly what it sounds like.

It's very dangerous to believe people, I haven't for years.

She's had a long life of experience in noticing evil, fancying evil, suspecting evil and going forth to do battle with evil.

It has just happened that I have found myself in the vicinity of murder rather more often than would seem normal.

Well, perhaps you're right, Miss Blacklock, but my own diagnosis would be a severe attack of Nosey Parkeritis …

Loyalty it is a pestilential thing in crime. Again and again it obscures the truth.

Where there is murder, anything can happen.

They are never really dead, these super criminals

One does see so much evil in a village," murmured Miss Marple in an explanatory voice.

The judge murmured with a reptilian smile:

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

Let me tell you this, Hastings. She would never forgive me if I let Alfred Inglethorp, her husband, be arrested now—when a word from me could save him!

Edward turned to Miss Marple. "It's like this, you see. As Uncle Mathew grew older, he got more and more suspicious. He didn't trust anybody." "Very wise of him," said Miss Marple. "The depravity of human nature is unbelievable.

Looks a bit fishy to me," said Japp. "He actually had a blowpipe, and look at his manner. All to pieces." "That is the severity of your official demeanor, my good Japp." "There's nothing for anyone to be afraid of if they're only telling the truth," said the Scotland Yard man austerely. Poirot looked at him pityingly. "In verity, I believe that you yourself honestly believe that.

mrs. McGinty's dead..how did she die? down on one knee..just like I mrs. McGinty's dead..how did she die? holding her hand out..just like I mrs. McGinty's dead.. how did she die? sticking her neck out..just like I

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

Clotilde, Miss Marple thought, was certainly no Ophelia, but she would have made a magnificent Clytemnestra---she could have stabbed a husband in his bath with exultation. But since she had never had a husband, that solution wouldn't do. Miss Marple could not see her murdering anyone else but a husband---and there had been no Agamemnon in this house.

The family would come under suspicion," he said, "and it might remain under suspicion for a long time—perhaps for ever. If one of the family was guilty it is possible that they themselves would not know which one. They would look at each other and—wonder … Yes, that's what would be the worst of all. They themselves would not know which…

My good Japp, is it possible that you throw the mud in my eyes? I know well enough that it is the Chinaman you suspect. But you are so artful. You want me to help you—and yet you drag the red kipper across the trail.

Poirot said "you will find,M.le docteur,if you have much to do with cases of this kind,that they all resemble each other in one thing." "what is that?" I asked curiously "everyone concerned in them has something to hide

I should have known when I first saw that picture. For it is a very remarkable picture. It is the picture of a murderess painted by her victim-it is the picture of a girl watching her lover dies.