I do not see the E.E.C. [European Economic Community] as a great love affair. It's more like nine middle aged couples with failing marriages meeting at a Brussels hotel for a group grope.

Western man, especially the Western critic, still find it very had to go into print and say: "I recommend you to go and see this because it gave me an erection."

Not content to have the audience in the palm of his hand, he goes one further and clenches his fist.

Among the classic tastes: bread sauce, Nuits St Georges Les Perdrix 1962, Worcestershire sauce, Toblerone and Bovril.

A city whose living immediacy is so urgent that when I am in it I lose all sense of the past.

A critic is a man who knows the way but can't drive the car.

No theater could sanely flourish until there was an umbilical connection between what was happening on the stage and what was happening in the world.