There's no law that decrees when not to whinge, but you reach a certain age - 80 seems about right - when you're expected to manifest querulousness - the coffee's too hot, the boiled egg's too soft.

Congealed fat is pretty much the same, irrespective of the delicacy around which it is concealed.

I find it hard to say, because when I was there it seemed to be shut.

If you mind losing more than you enjoy winning, don't bet.

Breakfast is a notoriously difficult meal to serve with a flourish.

Owning a racehorse is probably the most expensive way of getting on to a racecourse for nothing.

In moments of considerable strain, I tend to take to bread-and-butter pudding. There is something about the blandness of soggy bread, the crispness of the golden outer crust and the unadulterated pleasure of a lightly set custard that makes the world seem a better place to live.