"One could do worse than be a swinger of birches."

“At eighty-two, I feel like a twenty-year-old, but, unfortunately, there's never one around.” 

“I know why superman left krypton. Earth was the only place where he could get steriods!” 

“I can't tell you his age, but when he was born the wonder drug was Mercurochrome.” 

Still, to be urged to write and to be urged to publish are two different things and nobody so far was urging her to do the latter.

. . . there was little to choose between Jews and Catholics. The Jews had holidays that turned up out of the blue and the Catholics had children in much the same way.

Can there be any greater pleasure than to come across an author one enjoys and then to find they have written not just one book or two, but at least a dozen?

I saw someone peeing in Jermym Street the other day. I thought, is this the end of civilization as we know it? Or is it simply someone peeing in Jermyn Street?

...she felt about reading what some writers felt about writing: that it was impossible not to do it and that at this late stage of her life she had been chosen to read as others were chosen to write.

The days weren't long enough for the reading she wanted to do.

“The happiness of one man and one woman is the greatest thing in all the world.”

“Inestimable harm may be done by foolish wagging of tongues in ill-natured gossip”

“What I wanted, frankly, was someone who would argue me out of the things that I was thinking.”

“I have always disapproved of murder.”

“There hung about her the restrained energy of a whiplash.”

“Because, you see, if the man were an invention—a fabrication—how much easier to make him disappear!”

“Miss Bulstrode had another faculty which demonstrated her superiority over most other women. She could listen.”

“From now on, it is our task to suspect each and everyone amongst us. Forewarned is forearmed. Take no risks and be alert to danger. That is all.”

“Rest assured," said Hercule Poirot. "I am the best!”

“Mary seemed to have taken a perverse pleasure in seeing how best she could alternate undercooking and overcooking.”

“And that very same evening - that very same evening - Lord Edgware dies. Good title that, by the way. Lord Edgware Dies. Look well on a book stall.”

“A trifle, a little, the likeness of a dream. And death comes as the end.”

“Everybody is very much alike, really. But fortunately, perhaps, they don't realise it. - Miss Marple”

“These blondes, sir, they're responsible for a lot of trouble.”