Unseen in the background, Fate was quietly slipping lead into the boxing-glove.

Freddie experienced the sort of abysmal soul-sadness which afflicts one of Tolstoy's Russian peasants when, after putting in a heavy day's work strangling his father, beating his wife, and dropping the baby into the city's reservoir, he turns to the cupboards, only to find the vodka bottle empty.

It was one of the most disgusting spectacles I've ever seen-- this white-haired old man, who should have been thinking of the hereafter, standing there lying like an actor.

Red hair, sir, in my opinion, is dangerous.

She had a penetrating sort of laugh. Rather like a train going into a tunnel.

There is only one cure for gray hair. It was invented by a Frenchman. It is called the guillotine.

I always strive, when I can, to spread sweetness and light. There have been several complaints about it.