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.

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

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.

If you'd spent your life being called "Gyles Brandreth", you would crawl across broken glass to achieve the bliss, the simplicity, the purity, the joy of simply being called "Bob".

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

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

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