I read all the books I could find about manners, and the extraordinary thing was, in all books up to the end of the Second World War, most were directed at how to comport yourself in the presence of the ladies.

Muddled syntax is the outward and audible sign of confused minds, and the misuse of grammar the result of illogical thinking.

My outlook was so limited that I assumed that all deviates were openly despised and rejected. Their grief and their fear drew my melancholy nature strongly. At first I only wanted to wallow in their misery, but, as time went by, I longed to reach its very essence. Finally I desired to represent it. By this process I managed to shift homosexuality from being a burden to being a cause. The weight lifted and some of the guilt evaporated.

Fashion is what you adopt when you don't know who you are.

The young always have the same problem - how to rebel and conform at the same time. They have now solved this by defying their parents and copying one another.

The war between the sexes is the only one in which both sides regularly sleep with the enemy.

In England, nobody's your friend.