I was an only child. I lost both my parents. By the time I was twenty I was bald. I'm homosexual. In the way of circumstances and background to transcend I had everything an artist could possibly want. It was practically a blueprint.

The longer I practise medicine, the more convinced I am there are only two types of cases: those that involve taking the trousers off and those that don't.

Mark my words, when a society has to resort to the lavatory for its humour, the writing is on the wall.

I have never understood disliking for war. It panders to instincts already catered for within the scope of any respectable domestic establishment.

Children always assume the sexual lives of their parents come to a grinding halt at their conception.

I lack what the English call character, by which they mean the power to refrain.

Books are not about passing the time. They're about other lives. Other worlds.