Outside Every Fat Man There Is An

Only A World Without Love Strikes Me As Instantly And Decisively More Terrible Than One Without Music.

When I Find Someone I Respect Writing About An Edgy, Nervous Wine That Dithered In The Glass, I Cringe. When I Hear Someone I Don't Respect Talking About An Austere, Unforgiving Wine, I Turn A Bit Austere And Unforgiving Myself. When I Come Across Stuff Like That And Remember About The Figs And Bananas, I Want To Snigger Uneasily. You Can Call A Wine Red, And Dry, And Strong, And Pleasant. After That, Watch Out.

Twentieth Century Music Is Like Paedophilia. No Matter How Persuasively And Persistently Its Champions Urge Their Cause, It Will Never Be Accepted By The Public At Large, Who Will Continue To Regard It With Incomprehension, Outrage And Repugnance.

Sex Stops When You Pull Up Your Pants, Love Never Lets You Go.

I'll Pour You The First One And After That, If You Don't Have One, It's Your Own F****** Fault. You Know Where It Is.