I used to dream, and I used to vow; I wouldn't dream of it now.

People are still disturbingly vague about the treatment of animals. People still seem to believe that meat is a particular substance not at all connected to animals playing in the field over there. People don't realise how gruesomely and fighteningly the animal gets to the plate.

People like me prove that you can survive without romance, even though you end up a bit unbalanced and you tend to argue with your own reflection.

Bring me the head of Elton John . . . which is one instance in which meat would not be murder, if it were served on a plate.

Pass the pub that wrecks your body And the church, all they want is your money

Any criticism of Thatcher throws a dangerously absurd light on the entire machinery of British politics. Thatcher's name must be protected, not because of all the wrong that she had done, but because the people around her allowed her to do it.

Smiths songs certainly have an astonishing afterlife.