It is hard to think of anything which more tragically and clearly exemplifies the phenomenon of good political intentions achieving the precise opposite of their aim.

I think one of the very frightening things about the regime of the National Socialists is that it made people happy.

When Christians start thinking about Jesus, things start breaking down, they lose their faith. It's perfectly possible to go to church every Sunday and not ask any questions, just because you like it as a way of life. They fear that if they ask questions they'll lose their Christ, the very linchpin of their religion.

Fear of death has never played a large part in my consciousness - perhaps unimaginative of me.

I'm like Jane Austen - I work on the corner of the dining table.

In the past, I used to counter any such notions by asking myself: 'Would you really want President Hattersley?' I now find that possibility rather cheers me up. With his chubby, Dickensian features and his knowledge of T.H. Green and other harmless leftish political classics, Hattersley might not be such a bad thing after all.

I should prefer to have a politician who regularly went to a massage parlour than one who promised a laptop computer for every teacher.