Truly God was good, to make man so blind.

That's the purpose of old age... To give us a breathing space before we die, in which to see why we did what we did.

Perfection, in anything, is unbearably dull. Myself, I prefer a touch of imperfection.

And gradually his memory slipped a little, as memories do, even those with so much love attached to them; as if there is an unconscious healing process within the mind which mends up in spite of our desperate determination never to forget.

When we press the thorn to our chest we know, we understand, and still we do it.

The Labour Party of today has fits of horrors of the very thought of somebody like me might saying that they bought in white Australia. But I believe they did.

My books and other works are my legacy, and it's a great comfort to know that mine is a legacy of pleasure for other people.