28 November 1904, London – 30 June 1973
English novelist, socialite, essayist and biographer.
An aristocracy in a republic is like a chicken whose head has been cut off; it may run about in a lively way, but in fact it is dead.
I think housework is far more tiring and frightening than hunting is; after hunting we had eggs for tea and were made to rest for hours, but after housework people expect one to go on just as if nothing special had happened.
Left-wing people are always sad because they mind dreadfully about their causes, and the causes are always going so badly.
Surely a king who loves pleasure is less dangerous than one who loves glory?
I love childen, especially when they cry, for then someone takes them away.