In the Members' Dining Room, the Conservatives eat at one end, the Labour Party at the other, while the Liberals wait at table.

If God had meant us to go metric, why did he give Christ twelve apostles?

Gazing at the typewriter in moments of desperation I console myself with three thoughts. Alcohol at six, dinner at eight, and to be immortal you've got to be dead.

Praise makes me humble, but when I am abused, I know that I have touched the stars.

I think it should be made clear that the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats, they have not got into bed together; they are merely sharing a room.

As a politician, you only meet two types of people. People with problems, and people who are right.

John Major. He dresses so well. And so quickly.