After the Funeral (Hercule Poirot, #33)

by Agatha Christie

And you couldn’t get these old things mended nowadays. Too old-fashioned, that’s what they’d say, shaking their heads in that silly superior way—as if the old things weren’t a great deal better than the new ones!

Mr. Entwhistle’s train of thought came to an abrupt check. It was the second time that that disturbing word had occurred. Truths. And why was it so disturbing? Because, of course, that had always been at the bottom of the embarrassment that Cora’s outspoken comments had caused. It was because her näive statements had been either true or had contained some grain of truth that they had been so embarrassing!

“The value of money is always relative,” said Mr. Entwhistle. “It is the need that counts.”

What any woman saw in some particular man was beyond the comprehension of the average intelligent male. It just was so. A woman who could be intelligent about everything else in the world could be a complete fool when it came to some particular man.

“Sometimes, is it not, the Past will not be left, will not suffer itself to pass into oblivion? It stands at one’s elbow—it says, ‘I am not done with yet.’”

“It is lamentable! Alas, there is no proper education nowadays. Apparently one learns nothing but economics—and how to sit Intelligence Tests!