Would you like a whiskey?' I say. 'I've got some.' (That's original. I bet nobody's ever thought of that way of bridging the gap before.)

Yes, I am sad, sad as a circus-lioness, sad as an eagle without wings, sad as a violin with only one string and that one broken, sad as a woman who is growing old. Sad, sad, sad.

You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world.

A room is, after all, a place where you hide from the wolves. That's all any room is.

The feeling of Sunday is the same everywhere, heavy, melancholy, standing still.

I am sad, sad as a circus-lioness.

I am the only real truth I know.

Now I no longer wish to be loved, beautiful, happy or successful. I want one thing and one thing only - to be left alone.

I've been so ridiculous all my life that a little bit more or a little bit less hardly matters now.

Love was a terrible thing. You poisoned it and stabbed at it and knocked it down into the mud - well down - and it got up and staggered on, bleeding and muddy and awful. Like - like Rasputin.

We can't all be happy, we can't all be rich, we can't all be lucky - and it would be so much less fun if we were... There must be the dark background to show up the bright colours.

wars are fought so that peace can be achieved talk about irony

If you are with me long, I will begin to spell Master with two M’s.

Oh, I never look under the hood.

The legend of the jungle heritage and the evolution of man as a hunting carnivore has taken root in man's mind ... He may even believe that equal pay will do something terrible to his gonads.

There's nothing there — get rid of that!

Common European thought is the fruit of the immense toil of translators. Without translators, Europe would not exist; translators are more important than members of the European Parliament.

I'm not from a theatrical background where people do like to work it out on some stage space.

It is your restlessness that causes chaos.

When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door.