Sex, on the whole, was meant to be short, nasty and brutish. If what you want is cuddling, you should buy a puppy.

Show me a frigid woman and, nine times out of ten, I'll show you a little man.

I feel even less patience with transsexuals.

Women, more often than not, do things which aren't remotely relaxing but are all about preening, which is just another sort of work.

And call me a pig, but isn't it brilliantly refreshing how early the Dutch eat dinner? When they're still laying out the cutlery in achingly hip Barcelona, they're hanging the Closed sign on the restaurant doors of old Amsterdam.

When the sex war is won prostitutes should be shot as collaborators for their terrible betrayal of all women.

But just think what a boring, bread-and-milk world this would be without the boastful.