What a grand, higgledy-piggledy, sensible old place Norwich is!

A good holiday is one spent among people whose notions of time are vaguer than yours.

We plan, we toil, we suffer - in the hope of what? A camel-load of idol's eyes? The title deeds of Radio City? The empire of Asia? A trip to the moon? No, no, no, no. Simply to wake just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs.

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

Public opinion polls are rather like children in a garden, digging things up all the time to see how they're growing.

I can't help feeling wary when I hear anything said about the masses. First you take their faces from 'em by calling 'em the masses and then you accuse 'em of not having any faces.

If we openly declare what is wrong with us, what is our deepest need, then perhaps the death and despair will by degrees disappear.