Life was a funny thing that happened to me on the way to the grave.
When I told the people of Northern Ireland that I was an atheist, a woman in the audience stood up and said, 'Yes, but is it the God of the Catholics or the God of the Protestants in whom you don't believe?'
Development of character consists solely in moving toward self-sufficiency.
However low a man sinks he never reaches the level of the police.
I recommend limiting one's involvement in other people's lives to a pleasantly scant minimum.
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.
You can do terrible things when you don't know who you are.
If Mr. Vincent Price were to be co-starred with Miss Bette Davis in a story by Mr. Edgar Allan Poe directed by Mr. Roger Corman, it could not fully express the pent-up violence and depravity of a single day in the life of the average family.
To my disappointment I now realized that to know all is not to forgive all. It is to despise everybody.
The British do not expect happiness. I had the impression, all the time that I lived there, that they do not want to be happy; they want to be right.
In an expanding universe, time is on the side of the outcast. Those who once inhabited the suburbs of human contempt find that without changing their address they eventually live in the metropolis.
Never keep up with the Joneses. Drag them down to your level.
There is no need to do any housework at all. After the first four years the dirt doesn't get any worse.
The consuming desire of most human beings is deliberately to plant their whole life in the hands of some other person. I would describe this method of searching for happiness as immature. Development of character consists solely in moving toward self-sufficiency.
In an expanding universe, time is on the side of the outcast.
It's no good running a pig farm badly for 30 years while saying, 'Really, I was meant to be a ballet dancer.' By then, pigs will be your style.
Fashion is what you adopt when you don't know who you are.
If at first you don't succeed, failure may be your style.
The very purpose of existence is to reconcile the glowing opinion we hold of ourselves with the appalling things that other people think about us.
You fall out of your mother's womb, you crawl across open country under fire, and drop into your grave.
I am made for autumn. Summer and I have a fickle relationship, but everything about autumn is perfect to me. Woolly jumpers, Wellington boot, scarves, thin first, then thick, socks. The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, those last warm sunny days before the rain and the wind. Her moody hues and subdued palate punctuated every now and again by a brilliant orange, scarlet or copper goodbye. She is my true love.
I don't care if my lettuce has DDT on it, just as long as it's crisp.
So what I did was stuff my face with anything around, any old rubbish, burgers, chocolate, crisps, fish and chips, loads of it, till I felt sick - but at least I'd had the pleasure of stuffing my face and feeling really full.
Two sounds of autumn are unmistakable...the hurrying rustle of crisp leaves blown along the street...by a gusty wind, and the gabble of a flock of migrating geese.
My heart is drumming in my chest so hard it aches, but it's the good kind of ache, like the feeling you get on the first real day of autumn, when the air is crisp and the leaves are all flaring at the edges and the wind smells just vaguely of smoke - like the end and the beginning of something all at once.
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