The sweeter the apple, the blacker the core. Scratch a lover and find a foe!

She can sit up and beg, and she can give her paw — I don't say she will, but she can.

...as for helping me in the outside world, the Convent taught me only that if you spit on a pencil eraser, it will erase ink.

Just begin a story with such a phrase as 'I remember Disraeli - poor old Dizz! - once saying to me, in answer to my poke in the eye,' and you will find me and Morpheus off in a corner, necking.

Sometimes I think I'll give up trying, and just go completely Russian and sit on a stove and moan all day.

Now to me, Edith looks like something that would eat her young.

Flowers are heaven's masterpiece.