There are some things one remembers even though they may never have happened.

I was brought up in the War. I was an adolescent in the Second World War. And I did witness in London a great deal of the Blitz.

Don't forget the earth's about five thousand million years old, at least. Who can afford to live in the past?

One is and is not in the centre of the maelstrom of it all.

As a writer you're holding a dog. You let the dog run about. But you finally can pull him back. Finally, I'm in control. But the great excitement is to see what happens if you let the whole thing go. And the dog or the character really runs about, bites everyone in sight, jumps up trees, falls into lakes, gets wet, and you let that happen. That's the excitement of writing plays-to allow the thing to be free but still hold the final leash.

When you lead a life of scholarship you can't be bothered with the humorous realities, you know, tits, that kind of thing.

I also found being called Sir rather silly.