Politics Is Like Waking Up In The

We Shall Fight In Parking Lots, We Shall Fight In Empty Fields And On Wide Streets, We Shall Never Surrender.

Oh, What Is The Matter With Poor Puggy-wug? Pet Him And Kiss Him And Give Him A Hug. Run And Fetch Him A Suitable Drug. Wrap Him Up Tenderly All In A Rug. That Is The Way To Cure Puggy-wug.

The Almighty In His Infinite Wisdom Did Not See Fit To Create Frenchmen In The Image Of Englishmen.

Give Me The Facts, And I Will Twist Them The Way I Want, To Suit My Argument.

In Handing Over The Government Of India To These So-called Political Classes, We Are Handing Over To Men Of Straw, Of Whom, In A Few Years, No Trace Will Remain.