Everybody Was Up To Something, Especially, Of

I Can't Sing, But I Know How To, Which Is Quite Different.

Conceit Is An Outward Manifestation Of Inferiority.

That Strange Feeling We Had In The War. Have You Found Anything In Your Lives Since To Equal It In Strength? A Sort Of Splendid Carelessness It Was, Holding Us Together.

The Higher The Building The Lower The Morals.

Wit Is Like Caviar - It Should Be Served In Small Portions And Not Spread About Like Marmalade.