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

This particular nurse said, Cancer cells are those which have forgotten how to die. I was so struck by this statement.

Occasionally it does hit me, the words on a page. And I still love doing that, as I have for the last 60 years.

It’s very difficult to feel contempt for others when you see yourself in the mirror.

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.

How can the unknown merit reverence? In other words how can you revere that of which you are ignorant? At the same time, it would be ridiculous to propose that what we know merits reverence. What we know merits any one of a number of things, but it stands to reason reverence isn't one of them. In other words, apart from the known and the unknown, what else is there?

Nothing is more sterile or lamentable than the man content to live within himself.