“May I speak with his mother?""Of course,follow me."The butler didn't go far,stopping at the door to the dining room to announce loftily, "Lady St. John has arrived, madam."Rebecca heard a testy tone, from inside the room. "Are you blind, Charles? I'm sitting right here.""The new Lady St. John.”

“Watching St John rock his wife's body was not part of my job description. Honest. I sat down on the stairs where I could see the door, the hallway, and the stairs as far as the landing. St John started singing in a strange, broken voice. It took me a few minutes to figure out what he was singing. It was 'You are so Beautiful”

“Lord Nicholas St. John was their only hope, and she had been on the roof when he arrived, for heaven's sake. Ladies did not go traipsing about on rooftops.And certainly gentlemen did not frequent the homes of those ladies who did traipse about on roortops. It did not matter if the rooftop in question was in dire need of repair.Or that the lady in question had no choice.”

“In proceeding to the dining-room, the gentleman gives one arm to the lady he escorts—it is unusual to offer both. In proceeding to the dining-room, the gentleman gives one arm to the lady he escorts—it is unusual to offer both.”

“Sleep, ladies. I will be your St. Florian." Tomaso”

“At John Schlesinger's funeral at a synagogue in St John's Wood some years ago the person I stood next to said to me encouragingly, 'Come on, Stephen - you're not singing. Have a go!' 'Believe me, Paul, you don't want me to,' I said. Besides, I was having a much better time listening to him. 'No. Go on!' So I joined in the chorus. 'You're right,' Paul McCartney conceded. 'You can't sing.”