A bit of sex every 25 pages?

“We all need the pipe dream of writing the great novel, or winning the pools, or becoming managing director and kicking all our colleagues in the teeth. The world is deep and dark and full of tigers, and we need those shimmering white castles in the air to creep into when life gets unbearable.”

“I know [my novels] are frivolous; imperfect. But people love them — you should see the letters I get! Maybe one day I will write something more serious, but I don’t want to come across like a ghastly actor who wants to play Hamlet. Basically my aim in life is to add to the sum of human happiness. My dear, is that pompous, hmmm? Darling, am I being boring?”

“There are a lot of lewd jokes and ribald remarks but there isn't that much sex. Everybody says, 'Do you put in a bit of sex every 25 pages?' and I say, 'No, it happens when it happens.'”

“Our house is so difficult to find that people always arrive late, which means that by the time we go into dinner, I've had so many dry Martinis I'm practically under the piano, and it no longer seems to matter that I haven't put the potatoes on.”

“I'm bored stiff by ballet. i can't bear those muscular white legs like unbaked plaited loaves, and I get quite hysterical every time one of the women sticks out her leg at right angles, and the man suddenly grabs it and walks round in a circle as though he were opening a tin.”

“I'm not wild about holidays. They always seem a ludicrously expensive way of proving there's no place like home.”

“The male is a domestic animal which, if treated with firmness, can be trained to do most things.”

“People are going to be sent to prison for saying somebody’s common soon, aren’t they? Really. You can’t say anybody’s fat, you can’t say anybody’s anything, now. Not that one wants to say people are fat, but mind you, they are huge, aren’t they. Enormous. Enormous. I hate people being hurt. But nobody can say anything now. Anyway, enough of that. And all this [anti] wolf-whistling. I love being wolf-whistled at. I’m that generation. All contributions gratefully received.”

RIP, Dame Jilly Cooper, the creator of "the British bonk-buster".

So sad - she was lovely.

Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn

One hundred years ago on Friday, a genius was born - that great man of letters, wit and raconteur Mr Gore Vidal.

Born into a socialite family, Gore Vidal was destined to mix in the most erudite of circles, his early relationships included Anais Nin, and he was good friends with the Kennedy family. His ground-breaking gay-themed novel The City and the Pillar caused controversy in late 1940s America, and his later Myra Breckenridge was made into a cult film starring Raquel Welch and Mae West.

His TV clash with right-wing writer William Buckley was notorious for its evident hatred between the debaters, and on Buckley's death Vidal said: "Hell is bound to be a livelier place, as he joins forever those whom he served in life, applauding their prejudices and fanning their hatred". Ouch!

Some more examples of this deadly waspish wit:

• A good deed never goes unpunished.
• A narcissist is someone better looking than you are.
• After a certain point in life, litigation replaces sex.
• Andy Warhol is the only genius I've ever known with an I.Q. of 60.
• Any American who is prepared to run for president should automatically, by definition, be disqualified from ever doing so.
• Apparently, a democracy is a place where numerous elections are held at great cost without issues and with interchangeable candidates.
• As societies grow decadent, the language grows decadent, too. Words are used to disguise, not to illuminate, action: you liberate a city by destroying it. Words are to confuse, so that at election time people will solemnly vote against their own interests.
• By the time a man gets to be presidential material, he's been bought ten times over.
• Every time a friend succeeds, I die a little.
• Half of the American people have never read a newspaper. Half never voted for President. One hopes it is the same half.
• I don't want anything. I don't want a job. I don't want to be respectable. I don't want prizes. I turned down the National Institute of Arts and Letters when I was elected to it in 1976 on the grounds that I already belonged to the Diners Club.
• I never miss a chance to have sex or appear on television.
• I'm all for bringing back the birch, but only between consenting adults.
• It is not enough to succeed. Others must fail.
• Never have children, only grandchildren.
• Our form of democracy is bribery, on the highest scale.
• Sex is. There is nothing more to be done about it. Sex builds no roads, writes no novels and sex certainly gives no meaning to anything in life but itself.
• Some writers take to drink, others take to audiences.
• Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn.
• The four most beautiful words in our common language: I told you so.
• Today's public figures can no longer write their own speeches or books, and there is some evidence that they can't read them either.
• We must declare ourselves, become known; allow the world to discover this subterranean life of ours which connects kings and farm boys, artists and clerks. Let them see that the important thing is not the object of love, but the emotion itself.
• What other culture could have produced someone like Hemingway and not seen the joke?
• Write something, even if it's just a suicide note.

We adored him.

Gore Vidal (born Eugene Louis Vidal, 3rd October 1925 – 31st July 2012)