Five Little Pigs (Hercule Poirot, #25)

by Agatha Christie

“She was so young—” Poirot nodded. He thought to himself. “What do most people mean when they say that? So young. Something innocent, something appealing, something helpless. But youth is not that! Youth is crude, youth is strong, youth is powerful—yes, and cruel! And one thing more—youth is vulnerable.”

She was somewhat wild and undisciplined, but these faults arose mainly through high spirits, and I have always preferred my girls to show spirit. An excess of vitality can be trained and guided into paths of real usefulness and achievement.

I have never seen, myself, why the possession of artistic ability should be supposed to excuse a man from a decent exercise of self-control.

When a man has a charming, gracious, intelligent wife, he’s no business to treat her badly.

Hercule Poirot shook his head. “It is no matter who told me. That I know, that is the point.”