(On his gravestone): "I told you I was ill".

Life is a long agonized illness only curable by death.

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,I'll draw a sketch of thee.What kind of pencil shall I use?2B or not 2B?

A bird in The Strand is worth two in Shepherds Bush

My father was my greatest inspiration. He was a lunatic.

On the Ning Nang NongWhere the Cows go Bong!And the Monkeys all say Boo!Theres a Nang Nong NingWhere the trees go Ping!And the tea pots Jibber Jabber JooOn the Nong Ning NangAll the Mice go Clang!And you just cant catch em when they do!So its Ning Nang Nong!Cows go Bong!Nong Nang Ning!Trees go Ping!Nong Ning Nang!The mice go Clang!What a noisy place to belong,Is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!

After Puckoon I swore I'd never write another book. This is it

The clock in the church tower said 4.32, as it had done for three hundred years. It was right once a day and that was better than no clock at all.

R.I.P.Tom Conlon O'Rourke.Not Dead, just Sleeping.

With a roof over his head he had ceased to work, living off his [war] pension and his wits, both hopelessly inadequate.

Busty’ Roberts had joined the Royal Artillery in 1914 and since then had steadily risen to the rank of Gunner. Now the crunch: someone with a perverted sense of humour made him a Lance Bombardier. Roberts went insane with power. The war now consisted of two people, him and Hitler.

Some people live a nothing life: the most important thing they ever do is die. Thank God for eccentrics! Take Gunner Octavian Neat. He would suddenly appear naked in a barrack room and say, “Does anybody know a good tailor?”, or “Gentlemen – I think there’s a thief in the battery.” He was the bane of the Regiment.

...Roberts had joined the Royal Artillery in 1914 and since then had steadily risen to the rank of Gunner. Now the crunch: someone with a perverted sense of humour made him a Lance Bombardier. Roberts went insane with power. The war now consisted of two people, him and Hitler.

Life wasn't too bad. The trouble with Man was, even while he was having a good time, he didn't appreciate it. Why, thought Milligan, this very moment might be the happiest in me life. The very thought of it made him miserable.

Author? Author? Did you write these legs?''Yes."'Well, I don't like dem. I don't like 'em at all at all. I could ha' writted better legs meself.

Many people die of thirst but the Irish are born with one.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy friends but you can get a better class of enemy.

Money can't buy you happiness but it does bring you a more pleasant form of misery.

I thought I'd begin by reading a poem by Shakespeare but then I thought Why should I? He never reads any of mine.