Without Class Differences, England Would

We Only Need To Wear Shoes Because The British Built Roads Which Hurt Our Feet.

I Don't Write Out Of Fear. I Write Out Of A Strong Urge To Meet Death On Its Own Eternal Terms, Because The Fact Is That If You Write As Little As A Page Of Prose-even Bad Prose-that Is Eternal.

Elgar Is Not Manic Enough To Be Russian, Not Witty Or Pointilliste Enough To Be French, Not Harmonically Simple Enough To Be Italian And Not Stodgy Enough To Be German. We Arrive At His Englishry By Pure Elimination.

The Downtrodden Are The Great Creators Of Slang.

I Conclude That There Is As Much Sense In Nonsense As There Is Nonsense In Sense.