“The Stag at Bay with the mentality of a fox at large.”

Once, when a British Prime Minister sneezed, men half a world away would blow their noses. Now when a British Prime Minister sneezes nobody else will even say ‘Bless You’.

The cure for mixed metaphors, I have always found, is for the patient to be obliged to draw a picture of the result.

What has happened to architecture since the second world war that the only passers-by who can contemplate it without pain are those equipped with a white stick and a dog?

Countries like ours are full of people who have all of the material comforts they desire, yet lead lives of quiet (and at times noisy) desperation, understanding nothing but the fact that there is a hole inside them and that however much food and drink they pour into it.

Ask a man which way he is going to vote, and he will probably tell you. Ask him, however, why, and vagueness is all.

We would not only ameliorate many of the family-related social problems we see at present, but we would also reduce our vulnerability to terrorism. People who are hardy, resilient, and self reliant are a lot harder to terrorize.

It is assumed that when anyone gets into debt, the fault is entirely and always the fault of the lender.

However many motorcars and television sets they stuff it with, however many well-balanced children and loyal friends they parade around the edges of it. . . it aches!

If we expected self-reliance of family groups, if we expected hardiness and resilience and initiative on the part of individuals, and if we rewarded initiative instead of dependence on government.

In every age of transition men are never so firmly bound to one way of life as when they are about to abandon it.

Because tobacco is responsible for an impressive one-third of cancers, prevention efforts naturally begin with it.

Whom the mad would destroy, first they make gods.

Once you prove yourself, that you’re a utility player, they’re going to contact you and say, hey, yeah, we need you for a film next Thursday at Fox or Sony or whatever. You kind of get a reputation.

I spent my childhood scrambling round badgers and foxes and playing fantastic country kid games like knocking on people’s doors and running away. God that was a good game.

After one of his [Hubert Humphrey] long-winded harangues I suggested he had probably been vaccinated with a phonograph needle. He responded by saying that I would have been a great success in the movies working for Eighteenth Century-Fox.

A fox is subtlety itself.