Poirot’s chief personality characteristic was undoubtedly his overweening - but lovable - egotism. On rare occasions he would present an appearance of modesty, but it was patently so forced and false that it fooled no one. Some of his own evaluations from one story or another: “Hercule Poirot… is of a cleverness quite exceptional;” “impossible to deceive Hercule Poirot;” “me, I know everything.” - Russell H. Fitzgibbon, The Agatha Christie Companion
“All around us are people of all classes, of all nationalities, of all ages. For three days these people, these strangers to one another, are brought together. They sleep and eat under one roof, they cannot get away from each other. At the end of three days they part, they go their several ways, never, perhaps, to see each other again.”
Re-reads a post I reblogged and commented on about the hallway scene between Clara and the Doctor in Mummy on the Orient Express (see http://anotheruserwithnoname.tumblr.com/post/152855393879/e1evenc1ara-to-our-last-hurrah-ive).
Me, a few seconds later:
Re-reads my tongue-in-cheek comment about how, after such a sexy scene we never do find out what the two get up to between clinking their classes and Clara talking to Danny in her PJs.
Me, after that:
Remembers how in the old movies and TV shows there was this cliche (often parodied) where they sometimes denoted people going to bed together by cutting to images of nature, of cars going through tunnels, of trains speeding by...
Me, after quickly calling up MOTOE again:
Sees that the first thing we see after they clink glasses is ... a train speeding by...