"New Jersey looks like a monumental Croydon - all flyovers, dystopian bridges and waste. 'Jersey is the No. 1 producer of chemicals in America,' says Marc, 'and it is also the diner capital of the world. Why are New Yorkers depressed all the time?' He adds. We shake our heads. 'Because the light at the end of the tunnel is New Jersey.'"
Tanya Gold, The Spectator (30 June 2007)

"Whether it was that arch-snob John Mortimer, drivelling on about the glory days of the old-guard Macmillan government and their alleged noblesse oblige, or Baroness Warnock being made 'physically sick' by a television documentary which showed Mrs Thatcher buying off the peg at M&S, or the Arena Jocko Homo boys whingeing on in perfect parodies of A. N. Wilson (who had just announced his intention to vote Labour for a more stable, less changeable society), Whyohwhynia about the 'orrendous break-up of community and all these Yuppies being ALLOWED to buy PROPERTIES in CITIES (an AMAZING liberty, no? - especially when the self-same hacks were sitting on nice little earners in Hampstead (Jah Spence) and Highbury (El Tone); what in the world makes it sound for journalists from outside London, like these two, to come in and buy properties from indigenous Londoners, but not for bankers? Answers on a pinhead, please!), what it added up to was a bad case of the revisionisms and a new world view which owed a lot more to Prince Charles - let's keep things as they are and admit that those Moslem chappies talk a good deal of sense about women - than to Prince Nelson - let's tear the roof off the sucker and see what comes down, what sparkling splintery shards the human spirit will shine into."
Julie Burchill, I Knew I Was Right: An Autobiography (1998)

"Cornford was killed in Spain just before I went to Balliol; he had become a martyr of mythic power. Coming from a grammar school in Yorkshire, I found the element of romantic savagery in such middle-class young communists distasteful. Their Byronic posturing seemed to spring more from the need to sublimate some purely personal or class neurosis, than from the harsh realities which confronted the rest of us. I particularly resented their affectation of the glottal stop, which they regarded as essential to the proletarian image. 'Ours is a Par'y of a new type', they would say."
Denis Healey, The Time of My Life (1989)