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[talking About The Holocaust] 'but To Put Something In Context Is A Step Towards Saying It Can Be Understood And That It Can Be Explained. And If It Can Be Explained That It Can Be Explained Away.' 'but This Is History. Distance Yourselves. Our Perspective On The Past Alters. Looking Back, Immediately In Front Of Us Is Dead Ground. We Don't See It, And Because We Don't See It This Means That There Is No Period So Remote As The Recent Past. And One Of The Historian's Jobs Is To Anticipate What Our Perspective Of That Period Will Be... Even On The Holocaust.

-Alan Bennett

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[talking About The Holocaust]

Alan Bennett

...

[talking About The Holocaust] 'but To Put Something In Context Is A Step Towards Saying It Can Be Understood And That It Can Be Explained. And If It Can Be Explained That It Can Be Explained Away.' 'but This Is History. Distance Yourselves. Our Perspective On The Past Alters. Looking Back, Immediately In Front Of Us Is Dead Ground. We Don't See It, And Because We Don't See It This Means That There Is No Period So Remote As The Recent Past. And One Of The Historian's Jobs Is To Anticipate What Our Perspective Of That Period Will Be... Even On The Holocaust.

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One Of The Hardest Things For Boys To Learn Is That A Teacher Is Human. One Of The Hardest Things For A Teacher To Learn Is Not To Try And Tell Them.

The Thing I Think About Is That Once You've Done It, You Then Start To Think About What You're Going To Do Next. It's Much Easier To Follow Something That's Not Been As Successful As This.

Sometimes There Is No Next Time, No Time-outs, No Second Chances. Sometimes It’s Now Or Never.

I Don't Talk Very Well. With Writing, You've Time To Get It Right. Also I've Found The More I Talk The Less I Write, And If I Didn't Write No One Would Want Me To Talk Anyway.

Standards Are Always Out Of Date. That's What Makes Them Standards.

So Boring You Fall Asleep Halfway Through Her Name.

I Have Never Understood Disliking For War. It Panders To Instincts Already Catered For Within The Scope Of Any Respectable Domestic Establishment.

Were We Closer To The Ground As Children, Or Is The Grass Emptier Now?

Authors, She Soon Decided, Were Probably Best Met Within The Pages Of Their Novels, And Were As Much Creatures Of The Reader's Imagination As The Characters In Their Books. Nor Did They Seem To Think One Had Done Them A Kindness By Reading Their Writings. Rather They Had Done One The Kindness By Writing Them.

Life Is Like A Box Of Sardines And We Are All Looking For The Key.

But Most Men Regard Their Life As A Poem That Women Threaten. They May Not Have Two Spondees To Rub Together But They Still Want To Pen Their Saga Untrammelled By Life-threatening Activities Like Trailing Round Sainsbury's, Emptying The Dishwasher Or Going To The Nativity Play.

Those Who Have Known The Famous Are Publicly Debriefed Of Their Memories, Knowing As Their Own Dusk Falls That They Will Only Be Remembered For Remembering Someone Else.

To Begin With, It's True, She Read With Trepidation And Some Unease. The Sheer Endlessness Of Books Outfaced Her And She Had No Idea How To Go On; There Was No System To Her Reading, With One Book Leading To Another, And Often She Had Two Or Three On The Go At The Same Time.

I'm For The Freedom Of Expression, Given That It Will Be Under Strict Control.

Freedom Of Speech

The Longer I Practise Medicine, The More Convinced I Am There Are Only Two Types Of Cases: Those That Involve Taking The Trousers Off And Those That Don't.

Our Father The Novelist; My Husband The Poet. He Belongs To The Ages - Just Don't Catch Him At Breakfast. Artists, Celebrated For Their Humanity, They Turn Out To Be Scarcely Human At All.

Why Do We Not Care To Acknowledge Them? The Cattle, The Body Count. We Still Don't Like To Admit The War Was Even Partly Our Fault Because So Many Of Our People Died. A Photograph On Every Mantlepiece. And All This Mourning Has Veiled The Truth. It's Not So Much Lest We Forget, As Lest We Remember. Because You Should Realise The Cenotaph And The Last Post And All That Stuff Is Concerned, There's No Better Way Of Forgetting Something Than By Commemorating It.

Cancer, Like Any Other Illness, Is A Bore.

Cancer Survivor

A Book Is A Device To Ignite The Imagination.

We Have Fish And Chips, Which W. And I Fetch From The Shop In Settle Market-place. Some Local Boys Come In And There Is A Bit Of Chat Between Them And The Fish-fryer About Whether The Kestrel Under The Counter Is For Sale. Only When I Mention It To W. Does He Explain Kestrel Is Now A Lager. I Imagine The Future Is Going To Contain An Increasing Number Of Incidents Like This, Culminating With A Man In A White Coat Saying To One Kindly, "and Now Can You Tell Me The Name Of The Prime Minister?"

History Is A Commentary On The Various And Continuing Incapabilities Of Men. What Is History? History Is Women Following Behind With The Bucket.

Cloisters, Ancient Libraries ... I Was Confusing Learning With The Smell Of Cold Stone.

Clichés Can Be Quite Fun. That's How They Got To Be Clichés.

I've Never Seen The Point Of The Sea, Except Where It Meets The Land. The Shore Has A Point. The Sea Has None.

If You Find Yourself Born In Barnsley And Then Set Your Sights On Being Virginia Woolf It Is Not Going To Be Roses All The Way.

I've Never Forgotten That Experience. But I Had Nobody At School That Was Either Like Hector Or Irwin. The Masters Had No Idea What Was Expected Of You In The Scholarship Exam, So You Just Had To Busk It Really.

I Can Walk. It's Just That I'm So Rich I Don't Need To.

I'm Not Good At Precise, Coherent Argument. But Plays Are Suited To Incoherent Argument, Put Into The Mouths Of Fallible People.

A Bookshelf Is As Particular To Its Owner As Are His Or Her Clothes; A Personality Is Stamped On A Library Just As A Shoe Is Shaped By The Foot.

You Don't Put Your Life Into Your Books, You Find It There.

My Experience Came Before Most Of You Were Born. My School Was A State School In Leeds And The Headmaster Usually Sent Students To Leeds University But He Didn't Normally Send Them To Oxford Or Cambridge. But The Headmaster Happened To Have Been To Cambridge And Decided To Try And Push Some Of Us Towards Oxford And Cambridge. So, Half A Dozen Of Us Tried - Not All Of Us In History - And We All Eventually Got In. So, To That Extent, It [the History Boys] Comes Out Of My Own Experience.

There Are More Microbes Per Person Than The Entire Population Of The World. Imagine That. Per Person. This Means That If The Time Scale Is Diminished In Proportion To That Of Space It Would Be Quite Possible For The Whole Story Of Greece And Rome To Be Played Out Between Farts.

I Dont Know Whether You've Ever Looked Into A Miner's Eyes For Any Length Of Time, That Is. Because It Is The Loveliest Blue You've Ever Seen. I Think Perhaps That's Why I Live In Ibiza, Because The Blue Of The Mediterranean, You See, Reminds Me Of The Blue Of The Eyes Of Those Doncaster Miners.

... Once I Start A Book I Finish It. That Was The Way One Was Brought Up. Books, Bread And Butter, Mashed Potato - One Finishes What's On One's Plate. That's Always Been My Philosophy.

It's The One Species I Wouldn't Mind Seeing Vanish From The Face Of The Earth. I Wish They Were Like The White Rhinosix Of Them Left In The Serengeti National Park, And All Males.

Definition Of A Classic: A Book Everyone Is Assumed To Have Read And Often Thinks They Have.

Had Your Forefathers, Wigglesworth, Been As Stupid As You Are, The Human Race Would Never Have Succeeded In Procreating Itself.

I Suppose I'm The Only Person Who Remembers One Of The Most Exciting Of His Ballets-it's The Fruit Of An Unlikely Collaboration Between Nijinsky On The One Hand And Sir Arthur Conan Doyle On The Other.

What I'm Above All Primarily Concerned With Is The Substance Of Life, The Pith Of Reality. If I Had To Sum Up My Work, I Suppose That's It Really: I'm Taking The Pith Out Of Reality.

If, For Instance, We'd Made The Film After The Show Had Been To Broadway, It Would Have Been Exactly The Same Film But We Would Have Been Assured That They Would Have Understood It. We Didn't Have To Do Any Alterations For Broadway. I Was Supposed To Go A Fortnight Before It Opened To Alter Anything That Was Necessary And There Was Nothing Really.

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...she Felt About Reading What Some Writers Felt About Writing: That It Was Impossible Not To Do It And That At This Late Stage Of Her Life She Had Been Chosen To Read As Others Were Chosen To Write.

I Saw Someone Peeing In Jermym Street The Other Day. I Thought, Is This The End Of Civilization As We Know It? Or Is It Simply Someone Peeing In Jermyn Street?

God Doesn't Do Notes, Either. Did Jesus Christ Say, "can I Be Excused The Crucifixion?" No!

Deluded Liberal That I Am, I Persist In Thinking That Those With A Streak Of Sexual Unorthodoxy Ought To Be More Tolerant Of Their Fellows Than Those Who Lead An Entirely Godly, Righteous And Sober Life. Illogically, I Tend To Assume That If You ( Philip Larkin) Dream Of Caning Schoolgirls Bottoms, It Disqualifies You From Dismissing Half The Nation As Work-shy.

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At The Drabber Moments Of My Life (swilling Some Excrement From The Steps, For Instance, Or Rooting With A Bent Coat-hanger Down A Blocked Sink) Thoughts Occur Like 'i Bet Tom Stoppard Doesn't Have To Do This' Or There Is No Doubt David Hare Would Have Deputed This To An Underling.'

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Nature Played A Cruel Trick On Her By Giving Her A Waxed Mustache.

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One Reads For Pleasure...it Is Not A Public Duty.

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Here I Sit, Alone At 60, Bald And Fat And Full Of Sin Cold The Seat, And Loud The Cistern As I Read The (harpic) (lysol) Tin

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Philip Larkin Used To Cheer Himself Up By Looking In The Mirror And Saying The Line From Rebecca, 'i Am Mrs De Winter Now!

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Your Whole Life Is On The Other Side Of The Glass. And There Is Nobody Watching.

The Appeal Of Reading, She Thought, Lay In Its Indifference: There Was Something Undeferring About Literature. Books Did Not Care Who Was Reading Them Or Whether One Read Them Or Not. All Readers Were Equal, Herself Included. Literature, She Thought, Is A Commonwealth; Letters A Republic.

No Mention Of God. They Keep Him Up Their Sleeves For As Long As They Can, Vicars Do. They Know It Puts People Off.

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Polly: Education With Socialists, It's Like Sex, All Right As Long As You Don't Have To Pay For It.

I Lack What The English Call Character, By Which They Mean The Power To Refrain.

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Art Comes Out Of Art; It Begins With Imitation, Often In The Form Of Parody, And It's In The Process Of Imitating The Voice Of Others That One Comes To Learn The Sound Of One's Own.

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Above Literature?' Said The Queen. 'who Is Above Literature? You Might As Well Say One Was Above Humanity.

It Was The Kind Of Library He Had Only Read About In Books.

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At Eighty Things Do Not Occur; They Recur.

Memories Are Not Shackles, Franklin, They Are Garlands.

If I Am Doing Nothing, I Like To Be Doing Nothing To Some Purpose. That Is What Leisure Means.

That's A Bit Like Asking A Man Crawling Across The Sahara Whether He Would Prefer Perrier Or Malvern Water.

Of Course My Standards Are Out Of Date! That's Why They're Called Standards.

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If You Think Squash Is A Competitive Activity, Try Flower Arranging.

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I Write Plays About Things That I Can't Resolve In My Mind. I Try To Root Things Out.

Never Read The Bible As If It Means Something. Or At Any Rate Don't Try And Mean It. Nor Prayers. The Liturgy Is Best Treated And Read As If It's Someone Announcing The Departure Of Trains.

An Article On Playwrights In The Daily Mail , Listed According To Hard Left, Soft Left, Hard Right, Soft Right And Centre. I Am Not Listed. I Should Probably Come Under Soft Centre.

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My Films Are About Embarrassment.

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You Always Know When You're Going To Arrive. If You Go By Car, You Don't. Apart From Anything Else, I Prefer Cycling. It Puts You In A Good Mood, I Find.

Schweitzer In The Congo Did Not Derive More Moral Credit Than Larkin Did For Living In Hull.

I Tried To Explain To Her The Significance Of The Great Poet, But Without Much Success, The Waste Land Not Figuring Very Largely In Mam's Scheme Of Things. "the Thing Is," I Said Finally, "he Won The Nobel Prize." "well," She Said, With That Unerring Grasp Of Inessentials Which Is The Prerogative Of Mothers, "i'm Not Surprised. It Was A Beautiful Overcoat."

To Play Trivial Pursuit With A Life Like Mine Could Be Said To Be A Form Of Homeopathy.

I Was An Only Child. I Lost Both My Parents. By The Time I Was Twenty I Was Bald. I'm Homosexual. In The Way Of Circumstances And Background To Transcend I Had Everything An Artist Could Possibly Want. It Was Practically A Blueprint.

Children Always Assume The Sexual Lives Of Their Parents Come To A Grinding Halt At Their Conception.

The Breed Never Dies. Sapper, Buchan, Dornford Yates, Practitioners In That School Of Snobbery Withviolence That Runs Like A Thread Of Good-class Tweed Through Twentieth-century Literature.

All The Effort Went Into Getting There And Then I Had Nothing Left. I Thought I'd Got Somewhere, Then I Found I Had To Go On.

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