Today 23 years ago dear Grandmama died. I wonder what she would have thought of a Labour Government.
My father was frightened of his mother. I was frightened of my father and I am damned well going to see to it that my children are frightened of me.
Data is what distinguishes the dilettante from the artist
I thought men like that shot themselves.
I cannot understand it, after all I am only a very ordinary sort of fellow.
No more coals to Newcastle, no more Hoares to Paris.