“Well, there’s a lot to react against!”

Feminists hate me, don’t they? And I don’t blame them. For I hate feminism. It is poison.

It used to be about trying to do something. Now it’s about trying to be someone.

A week is a long time in politics.

Socialists are happy until they run out of other people’s money.

It pays to know the enemy – not least because at some time you may have the opportunity to turn him into a friend.

Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren’t.

It’s a funny old world.

I usually make up my mind about a man in ten seconds, and I very rarely change it.

Being Prime Minister is a lonely job. In a sense, it ought to be: you cannot lead from the crowd.

Freedom will destroy itself if it is not exercised within some sort of moral framework, somebody of shared beliefs, some spiritual heritage transmitted through the Church, the family, and the school.

I wasn’t lucky, I deserved it.

Of course, it’s the same old story. Truth usually is the same old story.

Don’t follow the crowd, let the crowd follow you.

If you can’t afford it, you can’t have it.

The facts of life are conservative.

I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.

Love in marriage is more than just a feeling or an emotion; it is a choice.

Because of the vulgar advent, I decided to give way and, by dark and cryptic sentences, tell of the causes of the future mutation of mankind; especially the most urgent ones, and the ones I perceived, and in a manner that would not upset their fragile sentiments.

A movie doesn’t have to do everything. A movie just has to do a couple of things. If it does those things well and gives you a cool night at the movies, an emotion, that’s good enough.

I don’t try and be dark, but there are obviously darker emotions that I want to capture sometimes.

What are the lessons to be learned from this journey of the mind through the universe? That humans are emotionally fragile, perennially gullible, hopelessly ignorant masters of an insignificantly small speck in the cosmos. Have a nice day.

It was then that the ecstasy and the dream began, in which emotion was the matter of the universe, and matter but an adventitious intrusion likely to hinder you from spinning where you wanted to spin.

It’s an indication of how cynical our society has become that any kind of love story with a sad theme is automatically ridiculed as sentimental junk.

Through the feigned fury of divine emotion, the wife of the great one will be badly wronged. Judges, wishing to condemn such a doctrine, the victim will be sacrificed to the ignorant people.