Wit ought to be a glorious treat like caviar; never spread it about like marmalade.
She had much in common with Hitler, only no mustache.
Wouldn't it be dreadful to live in a country where they didn't have tea?
Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun.
Never mind, dear, we're all made the same, though some more than others.
The theatre should be treated with respect. The theatre is a wonderful place, a house of strange enchantment, a temple of illusion. What it most emphatically is not and never will be is a scruffy, ill-lit, fumed-oak drill hall serving as a temporary soap box for political propaganda.