And, my brothers, it was real satisfaction to me to waltz-left two three, right two three-and carve left cheeky and right cheeky, so that like two curtains of blood seemed to pour out at the same time, one on either side of his fat filthy oily snout in the winter starlight.

Blessed tree and blessed birds, that were to be neither saved nor damned.

The ideal reader of my novels is a lapsed Catholic and failed musician, short-sighted, colour-blind, auditorily biased, who has read the books that I have read.

Civilised my syphilised yarbles.

Only in England is the perversion of language regarded as a victory for democracy.

I've always felt that English women had to be approached in a sisterly manner, rather than an erotic manner.

Women thrive on novelty and are easy meat for the commerce of fashion. Men prefer old pipes and torn jackets.