More quotes by Keith Waterhouse
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.
Lying in bed, I abandoned the facts again and was back in Ambrosia.
Billy Liar (1959)
Should not the Society of Indexers be known as Indexers, Society of, The?
Bookends (1990)
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?"
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.
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