It's no use to go and take courses in playwriting any more than it's much use taking courses in acting. Better play to a bad matinée in Hull, it will teach you much more than a year of careful instruction.

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun; The Japanese don't care to, the Chinese wouldn't dare to; Hindus and Argentines sleep firmly from twelve to one, But Englishmen detest a siesta.

Your motivation is your pay packet on Friday. Now get on with it.

A bloody good thing, but too late.

Someday I suspect, when Jesus has definitely got me for a sunbeam, my works may be adequately assessed.

Sunburn is very becoming - but only when it is even - one must be careful not to look like a mixed grill.

I will accept anything in the theatre . . . provided it amuses or moves me. But if it does neither, I want to go home.