Well, well, well, well. If it isn't fat, stinking billygoat Billy-Boy in poison. How art thou, thou globby bottle of cheap, stinking chip-oil? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou.

The unconscious mind has a habit of asserting itself in the afternoon.

John Kenneth Galbraith and Marshall McLuhan are the two greatest modern Canadians that the U.S. has produced.

As we grow older, the memories of early life brighten, those of maturity and senescence grow dim and confused.

I didn't think; I experimented.

Art is rare and sacred and hard work, and there ought to be a wall of fire around it.

Without class differences, England would cease to be the living theatre it is.