“Nothing goes so well with a hot fire and buttered crumpets as a wet day without and a good dose of comfortable horrors within. The heavier the lashing of the rain and the ghastlier the details, the better the flavour seems to be.”

“I'm sure it's not all hot buttered crumpets out there in the breathing world of asphalt and heartbeats.”

“Our thoughts are clay, they are moulded with the changes of the days;--when we are resting they are good; under fire, they are dead. Fields of craters within and without.”

“There's nothing better than good sex. But bad sex? A peanut butter and jelly sandwich is better than bad sex.”

“The best kind of rain, of course, is a cozy rain. This is the kind the anonymous medieval poet makes me remember, the rain that falls on a day when you'd just as soon stay in bed a little longer, write letters or read a good book by the fire, take early tea with hot scones and jam and look out the streaked window with complacency.”

“I was a great believer in hot buttered toast at all hours of the day.”