A sure sign of ineptitude and malice is manifested when one's attacker is willing to cover himself with mud in order to try and make some of it adhere to his target.

My political life has been informed by the view that if there was any truth to religion there wouldn't really be any need for politics.

Solidarity is an attitude of resistance, I suppose, or it should be.

In one was, I suppose, I have been "in denial" for some time, knowingly burning the candle at both ends and finding that it often gives a lovely light. But for precisely this reason, I can't see myself smiting my brow with shock or hear myself whining about how it's all so unfair: I have been taunting the Reaper into taking a free scythe in my direction and have now succumbed to something so predictable and banal that it bores even me.

The mildest criticism of religion is also the most radical and the most devastating one. Religion is man-made.

A Great voice has fallen silent. A great heart has stopped.

It ought to be an offense to be excruciating and unfunny in circumstances where your audience is almost morally obliged to enthuse.