Most writers enjoy two periods of happiness when a glorious idea comes to mind and, secondly, when a last page has been written and you haven't had time to know how much better it ought to be.

The people who pretend that dying is rather like strolling into the next room always leave me unconvinced. Death, like birth, must be a tremendous event.

Our trouble is that we drink too much tea. I see in this the slow revenge of the Orient, which has diverted the Yellow River down our throats.

To multiply your joy, count your blessings.

It is hard to tell where the MCC ends and the Church of England begins.

It is good fiction, so largely ignored now, that brings us so much closer to the real facts.

I fancy that the Hell of Too Many People would occupy a respectable place in the hierarchy of infernal regions.