Evil Under the Sun Quotes

Myra Gardener: Well, what the hell do we do now, Odell?

Odell Gardener: Just leave it to me. I'll think of something.

Myra Gardener: Hmmph, my hero. I swear, if you were a man I would divorce you.

Myra Gardener: There she goes, not a care in the world.

Odell Gardener: I'll make her care.

Myra Gardener: Oh, what do you know about care? If it had been up to you, the good Samaritan would have passed by on the other side.

Odell Gardener: I have an idea but I need to work it out.

Myra Gardener: Yeah, well don't forget about my cousin, Hatty Heimenheimer. It took her so long to "work out an idea," they finally had to stash her away in the booby hatch!

Daphne Castle: I've just had a telephone call from your friend Sir Horace. He says he's having trouble with his... his... his piffle valve?

Poirot: Such a valve still has to be invented, Madame.

Daphne Castle: Oh, well I dare say you're right, I wasn't paying that much attention, anyway the result is he'll be 24 hours late.

Mr. Flewitt's Secretary: Hercules Parrot, sir!

Poirot: [entering the office] Poirot, Mademoiselle, pucker your lips as though about to bestow a kiss! Poi-rot.

Christine Redfern: I'm better now. In fact, I'm determined to enjoy myself. It's so blissful here, so tranquil, so far from all violence and trouble.

Poirot: Yes, you are right, Madame; the sky is blue, the sun is shining, and yet you forget that everywhere there is evil under the sun.

Patrick Redfern: It's funny to think if Giuseppe Verdi had been an Englishman his name would have been Joe Green.

Poirot: [Thoughtfully] Yes, I suppose it would, yes.

Patrick Redfern: Well it used to make the boys laugh when I was trying to din some Latin into them when I was a school teacher.

Poirot: Little boys laugh easily if it keeps them away even for a moment from their study of Latin.

Poirot: The "Arlena Stewarts" of this world do not count; their domination is of the moment. Really to count, a woman must have either goodness or brains.

Christine Redfern: You can't actually believe that men care for either of those things, can you?

Poirot: Oh yes I do, madam.

Rex Brewster: [a little too solicitously, about Linda's step-mother, Arlena] And how is your lovely mother, this morning?

Linda Marshall: She's not lovely and she's not my mother!

Arlena Stuart Marshall: What's it called, anyway?

Odell Gardener: It's not right and it's not fair.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: Sounds like a blackman's left leg.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: Oh, dear! I'm the last to arrive.

Daphne Castle: Have a sausage. You must be starving having to wait all that time in your room.

Patrick Redfern: [as he sites a sunbather who could be either his wife or Arlena] Look. I wonder who that is.

Myra Gardener: You know exactly who it is, you naughty boy.

[No, he really was wondering]

Arlena Stuart Marshall: [arriving at outdoor buffet luncheon in swimming attire] I'm so sorry, are we late? Patrick insisted upon rowing me right round the island and its much bigger than I thought. Poor darling, he's absolutely exhausted.

Daphne Castle: [dryly, knowing what they've actually been up to] I'm not in the least surprised.

Rex Brewster: [needling about financial loss caused by Arlena leaving their show] Anyway darlings, it must have cost you a pretty bundle closing a hit show like that. Would either of you care to comment on that?

Odell Gardener: Why don't you go and play with yourself.

Myra Gardener: Excessively.

Rex Brewster: Is coarseness a substitute for wit, I ask myself?

Daphne Castle: [greeting the Redferns] Hello! I'm Daphne Castle - welcome to the island.

Patrick Redfern: How do you do.

Christine Redfern: [unenthusiastic] It looks lovely, I'm sure we'll have a nice time here.

Daphne Castle: [twinkling] And a naughty one too - I hope!

Daphne Castle: [notices Poirot in lobby] Oh, you - you must be Sir Horace Blatt's friend; perhaps - perhaps you'll sign in?

Poirot: [signs hotel register]

Daphne Castle: Oh, so you're the famous Hercule Poirot eh?

Poirot: Ah you are too amiable madame.

Daphne Castle: [sternly] Perhaps - I hope you haven't come here to practice your sleuthing games on my guests - they've all got far too many skeletons in their cupboards to join in with enthusiasm.

Christine Redfern: [watching people sunbathing on the beach] How I wish I could do that, just lie in the sun.

Poirot: Mais porquoi, madame? Look at them lying in rows, like corpses at the morgue! They are not men and women. Nothing personal about them. They're just bodies, butcher's meat, steaks grilling in the sun.

[Poirot is interrogating the suspects]

Kenneth Marshall: It's a little difficult to accept your condolences, Poirot... when in the same breath you accuse me of murdering my wife because she was unfaithful.

Poirot: [matter of factly] I can understand that, of course.

[last lines]

Daphne Castle: I've just had a phone call from His Majesty and he is very pleased with...

Poirot: The king of Tyrania?

Daphne Castle: He is very pleased with the matter being cleared up so quickly and so discreetly. He is so pleased he is awarding you the Order of Saint Gudrun the Inquisitive.

Poirot: Saint Gudrun the Inquisitive?

Daphne Castle: First class.

Poirot: How many classes are there?

Flewitt: Morning, Poirot. I hope you have some good news for me. This case has been hanging fire for four months.

Poirot: No, I'm afraid it's one of those rare cases where an insurance company must - laugh and lump it.

Sir Horace Blatt: A couple of months back, I met a certain lady in New York. She told me she was so madly in love with me that she'd leave the show she was in. She was an actress, you know, and come back to England with me on the Queen Mary and marry me. So I bought her this stone from Tiffany's. Then halfway across the Atlantic, she changed her mind and run off with another man. Well, I wouldn't have minded so much, only she took the jewel with her! You see, that wasn't a fair do. You see, I had given her it in contemplation of marriage. And, frankly, $100,000 is a bit much to pay for three days' fumbling on the high seas.

Poirot: Oh, monsieur, who can put a price on les affaires de coeur?

Sir Horace Blatt: Well, I bloody can. And this was too high!

Sir Horace Blatt: In three days' time she'll be down at Daphne's place for a little holiday. I'll give her a little holiday!

Poirot: Daphne's place?

Sir Horace Blatt: Yes, you know, Daphne Castle. She was a mistress of the King of Tyrania for years, then when he upped and married the present queen he gave Daphne an old summer palace to keep her quiet. She's turned it into one of those exclusive la-di-da hotels where the nobs and nancies come to squawk at each other. I can't stand it meself, but she's good sort.

Daphne Castle: Darling, I'd love to help. But it's not publicity I need, it's the cash.

Rex Brewster: Oh, good God, darling, don't we all?

Rex Brewster: And just what was that? A sudden breakdown in health?

Myra Gardener: More like a sudden attack of gold digging.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: God's teeth!

Kenneth Marshall: Don't worry, darling. It's only the noonday gun.

Poirot: The noonday gun?

Kenneth Marshall: Yes, it's fired every day at 12 o'clock to commemorate the glorious victory of Kosovo-Metohija in 1193. I'm reliably informed that a mere handful of Tyranian cavalry routed over 50,000 barbarous Bosnian fanatics. It was apparently the only military success of their entire history.

Poirot: One success too many.

Myra Gardener: What if the *bitch* refuses to do the show?

Odell Gardener: We'll lose all our backers, that's what. After all, we sell the show on her name.

Myra Gardener: To think our futures are riding on that snake-eyed hussy!

Daphne Castle: I hope you haven't come here to practise your sleuthing games on my guests. They've all got far too many skeletons in their cupboards to join in with enthusiasm.

Poirot: It's not my intention to derange you or your guests, madame. Pendant les vacances my desires are simply a good valet, a... tisane de menthe poivre at eight o'clock in the morning, precisely, and of course some wax, some beeswax for my shoes. That's all.

Myra Gardener: Gilly is my oldest friend, Rex.

Rex Brewster: Oh, God, I didn't know that!

Odell Gardener: Gilly is Myra's oldest friend, you know.

Myra Gardener: I just told him, Odell.

Daphne Castle: How about a cocktail, Monsieur Poirot? White Lady, a Sidecar, Mainbrace or Between the Sheets?

Poirot: No, if I could have a Crème de Cassis or a Sirop de Banane. Do you have - banana syrup?

Daphne Castle: Certainly.

Odell Gardener: It's wonderful to see you, Arlena. We have a fabulous show for you.

Myra Gardener: Oh, it's a real humdinger, honey.

Rex Brewster: I must talk to you, Arlena darling.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: Not now, Rexy-poo.

Rex Brewster: Darling, didn't anyone ever tell you that peevishness is unbecoming in young ladies?

Linda Marshall: No. But they told me not to talk to very strange men.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: The sweet way you wrote about how I landed my first leading role in "Flames of Eternity". How ever did you find out?

Rex Brewster: I bribed his wife.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: Oh! Naughty Rex!

Poirot: You do not care for the aquatic sports or the sunbathing, madame.

Christine Redfern: I wish I could. But I don't go brown. I sort of resemble a cassata. Pink skin, white blisters, and green in the face.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: What's it called anyway?

Odell Gardener: "It's Not Right And It's Not Fair".

[hands Arlena the script]

Arlena Stuart Marshall: Sounds like a black man's left leg.

Poirot: [notices Christing weeping] Pardon, madame. Je m'excuse.

Christine Redfern: Please stay. I'm just being silly. I wish I had more self-control, didn't show what I feel.

Poirot: Well, that is sometimes not easy for the ladies.

Kenneth Marshall: With me, a deal is a deal. I don't approve of quick marriage and easy divorce. Arlena is my wife. That's all there is to it.

Daphne Castle: Till death do you part?

Kenneth Marshall: Exactly.

Kenneth Marshall: I've just been having a word with Daphne.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: You get on like a house on fire with her, don't you?

Arlena Stuart Marshall: That's enough, Linda. It's adult time. Off to bed.

Patrick Redfern: Oh, come on, darling. Let her stay. She is on holiday, after all.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: Scram, Cinderella.

Arlena Stuart Marshall: [singing] You're the - top, You're the Colosseum, You're the top, You're the Louvre Museum, You're the nimble

Arlena Stuart Marshall, Daphne Castle: Tread, Of the feet of Fred Astaire, You're the National Gallery

Daphne Castle: You're Garbo's salary, You're Camembert! You're the Nile, You're the Tower of Pisa, You're the smile on the Mona Lisa, I'm a worthless cheque, A total wreck, A flop, But if, baby, I'm the bottom You're the top!

Daphne Castle: I bet it pongs something rotten in there.

Poirot: Only of the breath of the sea.

Daphne Castle: Oh, how poetic you are, Monsieur Poirot. You have the true soul of France.

Poirot: The true soul of Belgium, Madame.

Daphne Castle: Yes, of course. How mortifyingly stupid of me! Oh, do please forgive me.

Poirot: In due course of time.

Sir Horace Blatt: That is poppycock! That is bloody poppycock!

Poirot: If it is poppycock, then it's most regrettable that you said in front of me that you would willingly "wring her neck".

Sir Horace Blatt: Oh, well, that went - that was just a bit of chat, that's all!

Daphne Castle: Every week it's my custom to collect all my staff together, you know, to give them a collective boot up the bum. It does no end of good, particularly the I-ties. Keeps them up to snuff, as my old Papa used to say. Anyway, that meeting was this morning at 11:30, and just before it I came up here to have a wash and I poked my nose in here and I saw Kenneth hard at it, so I - I just didn't disturb him.

Poirot: But, Madame, you cannot see the desk from the door.

Daphne Castle: I see what you mean. You - you mean nobody did it.

Poirot: And yet we still have a body, Madame.

Poirot: Did any of you take a bath at 12:15 today? An odd time for ablutions.

[silence]

Poirot: . How remarkable! A bath which nobody admits having taken.

Daphne Castle: Give us a few clues!

Poirot: All right, I wish you to consider very carefully: a bathing cap, a bath, a bottle, a wrist watch, the diamond, the noonday gun, the breath of the sea, and the height of the cliff. From that you should be able to solve it yourselves. We meet again in one hour. Now I am going to have my oeuf à la coque.

Patrick Redfern: This is pure supposition, Poirot. I've never heard such twaddle.

Poirot: Twaddle or not, it is the only explanation which fits all the facts.