We used to say that inside Cecil Beaton there was another Cecil Beaton sending out lots of little Cecils into the world. One did the sets, another did the costumes. A third took the photographs. Another put the sketches in an exhibition, then into magazines, then in a book.

Why can't a woman be more like a man?

I could have danced all night!

Lots of cosy sky That God and I can share. I need air. I need air.

Don't let it be forgot, that once there was a spot, for one brief shining moment, that was known as Camelot.

Pleasure without joy is as hollow as passion without tenderness.

It's not a pretty face, I grant you. But underneath its flabby exterior is an enormous lack of character.