Book: Three motley the cat meowed

"Not sastadi kidney - taldychit it. - The cold kidneys - it's dead, and I mean not the ones that are served for lunch."

- Don't you wonder what I learned?
- If you can tell me about it, not portraying a condescending, Yes.

I don't need the services of Flavia De Luce on the device of my social life is cut off Feli. I don't need a Secretary, but if ever I feel the need - sometime in the very, very distant future, I'll give you a chance to fail.

It is considered that it is necessary to put a teaspoon of tea for each person and add one for the pot.
Do not count how many times Mrs. Mullet repeated this ancient rule: "a Spoonful for you, spoon me a spoon for the pot".
Without these spells will tea a different taste.

I was overcome by a feeling that I define as ice heart. It hurts and at the same time wet. Sometimes it is nothing more than a few icy drops, and sometimes a bucket of water, but this feeling is always accompanied by panic, terror, or a sudden memory.

I do not approve of morning chatter even those who know and love. This is usually a sign of a sloppy mind that you should not indulge in.

Perhaps I shall burn in hell for this blatant lie, but I don't care. Just those who are in Paradise will have to do without me.

I know there are people who are as obsessed with books as my father brands. For example, my sister-in-law Duffy may be talking about the endpapers, output, and first editions not that until, when the hell will freeze, but when he defrosts.

Sometimes the deepest love can be demonstrated only by remaining on the sidelines.

When you don't remember your dreams, it's the worst because you come back to reality, not knowing what he was doing and where he was.

When we are scared, we are cheruku in the hope that our pretense will return to their seats.
Some people come to the guillotine with the question: "am I late?"

Duffy couldn't think straight in the morning since I learned to read. Three a.m. is the middle of the day. She covers himself with the blanket, includes your trusty flashlight brand "Merde" and reads some puffy Dickens.

Looking at the library, you always can not understand who this man is, but what he wants to be.

- I found another body, but you probably know?
- Of course. The news spread like wildfire. Can't say I'm surprised. To each his own, if you know what I mean.