Keith Waterhouse

"Lying in bed, I abandoned the facts again and was back in Ambrosia."

"I turn over a new leaf every day," I said. "But the blots show through."

"[There's] too many people making too much muck and too much noise with too little space to do it in."

"Now, […] the world is beginning to look like what it is—overcrowded, dirty, noisy, smelly, and rapidly running out of resources. We're nearing the end of the rainbow, with not a crock of gold in sight."

"The 50s face was angry, the 60s face was well-fed, the 70s face was foxy. Perhaps it was the right expression: there was a lot to be wary about."

"Should not the Society of Indexers be known as Indexers, Society of, The?"

"Life is a campus: in a Greenwich Village bookstore, looking for a New Yorker collection, I asked of an earnest-looking assistant where I might find the humour section. Peering over her granny glasses, she enquired, "Humour studies would that be, sir?""