Quotes About Psychology

A natureza humana está cheia de incongruências.

Men and women don't react in the same way. What it comes down to is this. Men are the more sensitive sex. Women are tough. Men can't take murder in their stride. Women apparently can. The fact is, if a man's committed a murder for a woman, it probably enhances his value in her eyes. A man feels differently.

Human nature, dear, is very much the same everywhere. It is more difficult to observe it closely in a city, that is all.

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

Curious thing, rooms. Tell you quite a lot about the people who live in them." I agreed and he went on. "Curious the people who marry each other, too, isn't it?

The psychology of character is interesting,

The popular idea that a child forgets easily is not an accurate one. Many people go right through life in the grip of an idea which has been impressed on them in very tender years.

M. Poirot, almost certainly the criminal; the only man on board who could create a psychological moment.

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

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

Les femmes," generalized Poirot. "They are marvellous! They invent haphazard—and by miracle they are right. Not that it is that, really. Women observe subconsciously a thousand little details, without knowing that they are doing so. Their subconscious mind adds these little things together—and they call the result intuition. Me, I am very skilled in psychology. I know these things.

She went on broodingly: "It's so dreadfully easy—killing people. And you begin to feel that it doesn't matter . . . that it's only you that matters! It's dangerous—that.

To make the wax figures and stick in the pins, it is silly, yes, it is childish, yes—but it does something useful too. You took the hate out of yourself and put it into that little figure. And with the pin and the fire you destroyed—not your stepmother—but the hate you bore her. Afterwards, even before you heard of her death, you felt cleansed, did you not—you felt lighter—happier?

Les femmes," generalized Poirot. "They are marvelous! They invent haphazard—and by miracle they are right. Not that it is that, really. Women observe subconsciously a thousand little details, without knowing that they are doing so. Their subconscious mind adds these little things together—and they call the result intuition. Me, I am very skilled in psychology. I know these things.

Women observe subconsciously a thousand little details, without knowing that they are doing so. Their subconscious mind adds these little things together—and they call the result intuition. Me, I am very skilled in psychology. I know these things.

Without acute mania it may nevertheless occur that certain natures lack what I should describe as braking power. If you or I were to say, 'I hate someone—I wish he were dead,' the idea would pass from our minds as soon as the words were uttered. The brakes would work automatically. But, in some people the idea, or obsession, holds. They see nothing but the immediate gratification of the idea formed.

The extraordinary sanity of the insane is a most interesting subject.

Do I understand you to assert that women are not subject to homicidal mania?

The psychology of character is interesting,' returned Poirot unmoved. 'One cannot be interested in crime without being interested in psychology. It is not the mere act of killing, it is what lies behind it that appeals to the expert. You follow me, Hastings?

It is my experience that no one, in the course of conversation, can fail to give themselves away sooner or later…Everyone has an irresistible urge to talk about themselves.

How many psychologists does one know to whom it might be said: Physician, heal thyself?

It is not so simple as it seems," he ended. "There is the desire for power and very often a strong inferiority complex.

Skammen kilar sig in där den finner fäste.

Había días en que las pesadillas lo perseguían, y por la mañana se levantaba y no recordaba nada. Ya había aprendido que un sueño que se olvida por la mañana no desaparece, se esconde y escarba en secreto, y que hay sueños olvidados que salen a la superficie en mitad del día.