When a poem doesn’t work, the first question to ask yourself is, ‘Am I telling the truth?’ — Wendy Cope
Bloody christmas, here again, let us raise a loving cup, peace on earth, goodwill to men, and make them do the washing up. — Wendy Cope
Bloody men are like bloody buses – you wait for about a year and as soon as one approaches your stop two or three others appear. — Wendy Cope