'The modern young man,' said Aunt Dahlia, 'is a congenital idiot and wants a nurse to lead him by the hand and some strong attendant to kick him regularly at intervals of a quarter of an hour.'

In one second, without any previous training or upbringing, he had become the wettest man in Worcestershire.

I can't stand Paris. I hate the place. Full of people talking French, which is a thing I bar. It always seems to me so affected.

Unseen, in the background, Fate was quietly slipping the lead into the boxing-glove.

That's silly talk... Talk to my wife. She'll tell me I need to learn to just put my socks on the hamper.

Always remember the last words of my grandfather, who said: 'A truck!'

We did long for the pitter-patter of little feet, so we decided to buy a dog. Cheaper, and: get more feet.