Never Trust A Journalist.

Bloody Men Are Like Bloody Buses - You Wait For About A Year And As Soon As One Approaches Your Stop Two Or Three Others Appear.

On Waterloo Bridge Where We Said Our Goodbyes, The Weather Conditions Bring Tears To My Eyes. I Wipe Them Away With A Black Woolly Glove And Try Not To Notice I've Fallen In Love On Waterloo Bridge I Am Trying To Think: This Is Nothing. You're High On The Charm And The Drink. But The Juke-box Inside Me Is Playing A Song That Says Something Different. And When Was It Wrong? On Waterloo Bridge With The Wind In My Hair I Am Tempted To Skip. You're A Fool. I Don't Care. The Head Does Its Best But The Heart Is The Boss- I Admit It Before I Am Halfway Across

Write To Amuse? What An Appalling Suggestion! I Write To Make People Anxious And Miserable And To Worsen Their Indigestion.

When A Poem Doesn't Work, The First Question To Ask Yourself Is, 'am I Telling The Truth?'

I Used To Think All Poets Were Byronic Mad, Bad And Dangerous To Know. And Then I Met A Few. See Lamb 486:25.