Oh, it takes a lot for me to walk out of a film.

You don't need a Harvard MBA to know that the bedroom and the boardroom are just two sides of the same ballgame.

You either get Norfolk, with its wild roughness and uncultivated oddities, or you don't. It's not all soft and lovely. It doesn't ask to be loved.

I suppose that there is no point wasting time being lazy, though of course indolence in a divine way, actually has its advantages.

I never quite got the hang of the getting drunk & fondling the thighs [of all the cumbersome young males] business... whether that makes me a gallant & proper gentleman, a cowardly wuss or an unadventurous prude, I cannot make out

Hold the newsreader's nose squarely, waiter, or friendly milk will countermand my trousers.

As I go clowning my sentimental way into eternity, wrestling with all my problems of estrangement and communion, sincerity and simulation, ambition and acquiescence, I shuttle between worrying whether I matter at all and whether anything else matters but me.