Why did I desert Labour? Total bloody disillusionment. The party was a corpse. It had no ideology, it became detached, old, spineless and needed to go.

Americans believe that if you know something, you should do something about it.

Home's where you go when you run out of homes.

It's the oldest question of all, George. Who can spy on the spies?

Thank heaven, though, one of the few mistakes I haven't made is to talk about the unwritten book.

Without a pen in my hand I can't think.

It is also the pardonable vanity of lonely people everywhere to assume that they have no counterparts.