Quotes About Crime

That was what murder was-as easy as that! But afterwards you went on remembering...

jealousy is a pretty good motive for murder – and a pretty common one, too.

We're both very crime-minded. Read a lot about it.

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

No, no, my dear boy, that's where you're wrong. It's very easy to kill—so long as no one suspects you. And you see, the person in question is just the last person anyone would suspect!

Is nobody incapable of murder?" "I have often wondered." said Hercule Poirot.

A murderer is seldom content with one crime. Give him time, and a lack of suspicion, and he'll commit another

Ackroyd was sitting as I had left him in the armchair before the fire. His head had fallen sideways, and clearly visible, just below the collar of his coat, was a shining piece of twisted metalwork. Parker and I advanced till we stood over the recumbent figure. I heard the butler draw in his breath with a sharp hiss. "Stabbed from be'ind," he murmured. "'Orrible!

Already, at twenty-three minutes to one, Ratchett was dead—" "And it was his murderer speaking!" finished M. Bouc impressively. Poirot

Murder, you see, is an amateur crime. I'm speaking of course of the kind of murder you have in mind - not gangster stuff. One feels, very often, as though these nice ordinary chaps had been overtaken, as it were, by murder, almost accidentally. They've been in a tight place, or they've wanted something very badly, money or a woman - and they've killed to get it. The brake that operates with most of us doesn't operate with them.

But even then you have to reckon with a criminal's chief vice.' 'What is that?' ' Conceit. A criminal never believes that his crime can fail.

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

Agatha Christie

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

It is ridiculous to set a detective story in New York City. New York City is itself a detective story.

Can't you ever leave murder alone, woman? Even murder in retrospect?

there was a girl who discovered the body." "What did she do when she discovered it?" "Screamed." "Very nice too,

Det kan du stole på. Liker du detektivfortellinger? Det gjør jeg. Jeg leser alle sammen, og har navnetrekkene til Dorothy Sayers og Agatha Christie og Dickson Carr og H.C. Bailey.

Well, you know, bigamy is bigamy.

Detective stories are mostly bunkum... But they amuse people... And they're useful sometimes.

The murderer is with us—on the train now….

Years since I've seen you, Moosior Poirot. Thought you were growing vegetable marrows in the country." "I tried, Japp, I tried. But even when you grow vegetable marrows you cannot get away from murder.

Sir Henry Clithering, ex-Commissioner of Scotland Yard, sat silent, twisting his moustache—or rather stroking it—and half smiling, as though at some inward thought that amused him. "Sir Henry," said Mrs. Bantry at last. "If you don't say something I shall scream. Are there a lot of crimes that go unpunished, or are there not?

Agatha Christie