The formal Washington dinner party has all the spontaneity of a Japanese imperial funeral.

I'm often amazed at the way politicians, who spend hours poring over opinion poll results in a desperate attempt to discover what the public thinks, are certain they know precisely what God's views are on everything.

They're called Virgin Trains because they don't go all the way.

Watching the Commons tribute to Margaret Thatcher was like being suffocated inside a gigantic sticky toffee pudding, but one with nasty bogeys planted inside. There was much of the 'Margaret Thatcher who was lucky enough to know me,' especially from her own side of the House.

In Washington, success is just a training course for failure.

Fish have water, the bushmen of the Kalahari have sand, and Houstonians have interior décor.

Seeing John Major govern the country is like watching Edward Scissorhands try to make balloon animals.