Dead Man's Folly

Ariadne Oliver:
Doesn't your intuition tell you anything?

Hercule Poirot:
My intuition tells me... I haven't finished my breakfast!

Ariadne Oliver:
It's just like my murder.

Hercule Poirot:
It is, Mrs. Oliver. Just like your murder, except... this one is dead.

Hercule Poirot:
Mr. South.

Eddie South:
"Eddie"'s fine.

Hercule Poirot:
Mr. South...

Michael Weyman:
Mrs. Folliat may not be mistress of the manor any more, but when it comes to survival skills, she could teach the marines.

Hercule Poirot:
Children are erratic, or so I'm told. I don't have the privelege of knowing many.

Amanda Brewis:
Men are such fools.

Hercule Poirot:
And why should you make such an observation, madamoiselle?

Amanda Brewis:
They can be so shrewd, and then they go off and marry the wrong woman...

Sally Legge:
I really think you should mind your own business.

Hercule Poirot:
I have tried... but I can't.

Hercule Poirot:
I haven't given up, Mrs. Folliat. I will not give up. Hercule Poirot will *never* give up.

Hercule Poirot:
"Greedy" you say? Is there anything greedier than destroying something because it stands in the way of your miserable ambitions?

Hercule Poirot:
There those who have to exercise their little grey cells, and some who lock people *in* them.

Hercule Poirot:
There is a considerable difference between military intelligence and... normal intelligence.

Ariadne Oliver:
So what did you come up with? I'm dying to know.

Hercule Poirot:
So am I.

Hercule Poirot:
No family portraits, Mrs. Folliat?

Amy Folliatt:
When one has lost a family, portraits are only memory, and memory is like dead wood. It must be cut away if one is to go on.

Hercule Poirot:
[Visiting the Nasse House wine cellar] You know, every wine, even a small wine, has its own personality with its own secret past and its own promises of pleasure in the future. And so those of us who have been witnesses of death as we have - for them, this is a manifestation of life. What is it, it's... [inspects label on bottle] Lynch-Bages 1944! You know that when these grapes were being picked, the battle was raging all the way round the vineyard, but picked they were. That's life. And now, after the battlefield and all that is forgotten, these grapes have turned into juice and are quietly in the bottle developing strength and character and certainty. Life.