Quotes About Manners

as long as Mary can't cook and has those awful manners—well, we're safe, nobody else would have her." I perceived that my wife's methods of housekeeping were not so entirely haphazard as I had imagined. A certain amount of reasoning underlay them. Whether it was worthwhile having a maid at the price of her not being able to cook, and having a habit of throwing dishes and remarks at one with the same disconcerting abruptness, was a debatable matter.

Mr. Beresford put down the Daily Mail, which he was reading, and applauded with somewhat unnecessary vigour. He was politely requested by his colleague not to be an ass.

There seems to be a general idea that a clergyman is incapable of behaving like a gentleman. That is not true.

I think, my dear, we won't talk any more about murder during tea. Such an unpleasant subject.

At first, I was polite. Really. I said "excuse me," I tried to squeeze through gaps, even apologized for stepping on some toes. What can I say, I'm Canadian.

The Beddingfeld girl was deep in conversation with the missionary parson, Chichester. Women always flutter round parsons.

He chews the gum which I believe is not done in good circles.

Mr. Hastings—you are always so kind, and you know such a lot." It struck me at this moment that Cynthia was really a very charming girl! Much more charming than Mary, who never said things of that kind.

What is a secretary to a millionaire? Nine times out of ten it is a young man who likes living soft. A young man with nice manners and a taste for luxury and no brains and no enterprise, and if there is anything that is a softer job than being secretary to a millionaire it is marrying a rich woman for her money.

And a lot of fandangle it usually is," said Mrs. Burch. "Forms to fill in, and a lot of impertinent questions as shouldn't be asked of any decent body.

dangerously polite.

He's very nice," said Mrs. Clayton, "but not quite quite, you know. Hasn't got any idea of culture." Richard found his room exceedingly comfortable, and his appreciation of Mrs. Clayton as a hostess rose still higher.

Servants were the main topic of conversation in St. Mary Mead, so it was not difficult to lead the conversation in that direction.

Such nice people, the Hillingdons, though she's not really very easy to know, is she? I mean, she's always very pleasant and all that, but one never seems to get to know her better.' Miss Marple agreed thoughtfully. 'One never knows what she is thinking.' 'Perhaps that is just as well.' 'I beg your pardon?' 'Oh nothing really, only that I've always had the feeling that perhaps her thoughts might be rather disconcerting.

Madame, the most kind, the most amiable are not always the cleverest.

She breathed an enormous sigh, looked at Poirot, Looked away, and suddenly blurted out, "You're too old. Nobody told me you were so old. I really don't want to be rude but - there it is. You're too old. I'm really sorry." She turned abruptly and blundered out of the room, rather like a desperate moth in lamplight. Poirot, his mouth open, heard the bang of the front door. He ejaculated: "Non d'un nom d'un nom...

Will you be so kind, Mademoiselle, as to write down your permanent address on this piece of paper?' She complied. Her writing was clear and legible.

Well, I don't agree with you," said Griselda. "You know how little we can afford to pay a servant. If once we got her smartened up at all, she'd leave. Naturally. And get higher wages. But as long as Mary can't cook and has those awful manners—well, we're safe, nobody else would have her.

Does anyone—want tea?

If you will forgive me for being personal—I do not like your face, M. Ratchett," he said.

I always help old ladies over crossings, and pick up parcels for old gentlemen, in case they should turn out to be eccentric millionaires. But not one of them has ever asked me my name — and quite a lot never said 'Thank you.

A co jest nie tak z moj? propozycj?? (...) - Prosz? wybaczy? t? osobist? uwag?: nie podoba mi si? pa?ska twarz (...)

Mas nós não somos selvagens! Somos civilizados hoje em dia. - Há diferentes tipos de civilizações... - disse Bob vagamente. - Além disso, eu prefiro pensar que todos temos algo de selvageria dentro de nós... Se conseguirmos pensar em uma boa desculpa para deixá-la escapar.

Graceful phrases fell from his lips in polished French.