If God had intended us to fly, he'd have never given us railways.

January brings the snow / Makes your feet and fingers glow / February's ice and sleet / Freeze the toes right off your feet / Welcome March with wintry wind / Would thou wer't not so unkind / April brings the sweet spring showers / On and on for hours and hours.

In July the Sun is hot. Is it shining? No, it's not!

The English, the English, The English are best: So Up with the English and Down with the Rest!

The purpose of satire has been rightly stated as to strip off the veneer of comforting illusion and cosy half truth, and our job, as I see it, is to put it back again!