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

To say that these men paid their shillings to watch twenty-two hirelings kick a ball is merely to say that a violin is wood and catgut, that Hamlet is so much paper and ink.

There was no respect for youth when I was young, and now that I am old, there is no respect for age, I missed it coming and going.

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

In a matriarchy men should be encouraged to take it easy, for most women prefer live husbands to blocks of shares and seats on the board.

If there is one thing left that I would like to do, it's to write something really beautiful. And I could do it, you know. I could still do it.

Childhood, catching our imagination when it is fresh and tender, never lets go of us.