If the word 'No' was removed from the English language, Ian Paisley would be speechless.
When I'm writing poetry, 99. 9% of my writing begins in English. I spent most of my life in English, although I am bilingual.
Although the advice that you get if you got to see Margaret is 'stand up for yourself, shout back, and argue the toss and then she will respect you', the trouble is that sort of advice to the English middle-class male of a certain age doesn't actually help us very much because we've always been brought up to believe that it's extremely rude to shout back at women.
I cannot be a traitor, since I never swore fealty to the English king.
The english word thanks comes from the same root word as think. Maybe if leaders were more 'think-ful' about the contribution of others, they would be more 'thankful' to them.
I feel my poetry has contributed through all these languages that I needed to learn leading up to English.
My opinion is that more languages you speak, better it is, but but when you come to America, you speak English.
Refecting on the high divorce rate in America as contrasted with England "American women expect to find in their husbands a perfection that English women only hope to find in their butlers
English? Who needs to spend time learning that? I'm never going to England!
I have an English family and I've lived in England for years.
I think in many ways Johnny English is a more believable character.
My English is very bad.
I'm not a great fan of monarchy in general, but I have to say the Danish monarchy is closer to the people; it's not as stuffy as the English one.
In the 19th century, the English were loathed. Every memoir that you read of that period, indicates the loathing that everybody felt for the English, the only difference between the English and Americans, in this respect, is the English rather liked being loathed and the Americans apparently dislike it intensely.
When in doubt about who's to blame. Blame the English.
The way I see it is, I am a boon to the English language.
English Bohemianism is a curiously unluscious fruit. . . . Inside this hothouse, huge lascivious orchids slide sensuously up the sweating windows, passion-flowers cross-pollinate in wild heliotrope abandon, lotuses writhe with poppies in the sweet warm beds, kumquats ripen, open and plop flatly to the floor-and outside, in a neat, trimly-hoed kitchen-garden, English bohemians sit in cold orderly rows, like carrots.
I was well warned about English food, so it did not surprise me, but I do wonder sometimes, how they ever manage to prise it up long enough to get a plate under it.
The keynote of American civilization is a sort of warm-hearted vulgarity. The Americans have none of the irony of the English, none of their cool poise, none of their manner. But they do have friendliness. Where an Englishman would give you his card, an American would very likely give you his shirt.
Come English Settlement, I had it in my head that I didn't want to tour.