Everybody Is Very Much Alike, Really. But

I Would Like It To Be Said That I Was A Good Writer Of Detective And Thriller Stories.

I Have No Pity For Myself Either. So Let It Be Veronal. But I Wish Hercule Poirot Had Never Retired From Work And Come Here To Grow Vegetable Marrows.

How Tedious Is Retirement! You Cannot Imagine To Yourself The Monotony With Which Day Comes After Day.

I Have Wanted . . . To Commit A Murder Myself. I Recognized This As The Desire Of The Artist To Express Himself! . . . But-incongruous As It May Seem To Some-i Was Restrained And Hampered By My Innate Sense Of Justice. The Innocent Must Not Suffer.

There Is Something About Conscious Tact That Is Very Irritating.