I see her as one great stampede of lips directed at the nearest derriere.

Grab it while you can — grab every scrap of happiness while you can

You always ought to have tom cats arranged, you know - it makes 'em more companionable.

Never trust a man with short legs. His brains are too near his bottom.

At twelve noon, The natives swoon And no further work is doneBut mad dogs and Englishmen, Go out in the midday sun.

There are bad times just around the corner, There are dark clouds travelling through the sky, And it's no good whining, About a silver lining, For we know from experience they won't roll by...

I have always been very fond of them (drama critics) . . . I think it is so frightfully clever of them to go night after night to the theatre and know so little about it.