From a commercial point of view, if Christmas did not exist it would be necessary to invent it.

As I look around the West End these days, it seems to me that outside every thin girl is a fat man, trying to get in.

It's a pity more men are not bastards by birth instead of vocation.

I am all for people having their heart in the right place; but the right place for a heart is not inside the head.

I yield to no one in my admiration for the office as a social center, but it's no place actually to get any work done.

a perfectly managed Christmas correct in every detail is, like basted inside seams and letters answered by return, a sure sign of someone who hasn't enough to do.

Any committee that is the slightest use is composed of people who are too busy to want to sit on it for a second longer than they have to.