If he is mad, so much the better; and if he is mad, I hope to God…

There are kings enough in England. I am nothing there. I am old and want rest and should only go to be plagued and teased there about that Damned House of Commons.

I hate painting, and poetry too! Neither the one nor the other ever did any good.

Vermouth always makes me brilliant unless it makes me idiotic, but we'll hope for the best.

Thy soft-breathed hopes with magic might Have chased from my soul the shades of night

It may be we shall know in the hereafter Why we, begetting hopes, give birth to fears, And why the world's too beautiful for laughter, Too gross for tears.

I hope they all go out like Kilkenny cats...