I had inherited what my father called the art of the advocate, or the irritating habit of looking for the flaw in any argument.

On the three pigs he and his wife own: "We acquired the pigs last year. My wife was born on a pig farm and has always been very fond of pigs. Of course, they are for eating, which is why they are named Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. You wouldn’t want to eat Rufus, Marcus and Esmeralda.

Dying is a matter of slapstick and pratfalls. The ageing process is not gradual or gentle. It rushes up, pushes you over and runs off laughing. No one should grow old who isn't ready to appear ridiculous.

We don't know much about the human conscience, except that it is soluble in alcohol.

No power on earth, however, can abolish the merciless class distinction between those who are physically desirable and the lonely, pallid, spotted, silent, unfancied majority.

The worst fault of the working classes is telling their children they're not going to succeed, saying: There is life, but it's not for you.

Never shake hands with colleagues in court; the customers think you're making deals.