WENDY COPE

I was single for a long time and felt very much alone in the world, and talk of family values upset me very much at that phase in my life, because I used to think: 'What about people like me?'

My heart has made its mind up And I'm afraid it's you.

The reason modern poetry is difficult is so that the poet's wife cannot understand it.

Never trust a journalist.

I always tell students that writing a poem and publishing it are two quite separate things, and you should write what you have to write, and if you're afraid it's going to upset someone, don't publish it.

When a poem doesn't work, the first question to ask yourself is, 'Am I telling the truth?'

Some socks are loners They can't live in pairs.

The interesting thing is that you don't often meet a poet who doesn't have a sense of humour, and some of them do keep it out of their poems because they're afraid of being seen as light versifiers.

Write to amuse? What an appalling suggestion! I write to make people anxious and miserable and to worsen their indigestion.

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes, the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes. I wipe them away with a black woolly glove And try not to notice I've fallen in love On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think: This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink. But the juke-box inside me is playing a song That says something different. And when was it wrong? On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care. the head does its best but the heart is the boss- I admit it before I am halfway across

I've said what I'm prepared to say in my poems, and then journalists think that you're going to tell them a whole lot more.

The interesting thing is that you don't often meet a poet who doesn't have a sense of humour, and some of them do keep it out of their poems because they're afraid of being seen as light versifiers.

There is some humour in 'Family Values.' I don't want everyone to think it's not going to make them laugh. But there are quite a lot of poems there that aren't funny at all.

I have a theory that if you've got the kind of parents who want to send you to boarding school, you're probably better off at boarding school.

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.

I always tell students that writing a poem and publishing it are two quite separate things, and you should write what you have to write, and if you're afraid it's going to upset someone, don't publish it.

I've never been more famous than I was, suddenly, in 1986.

I like buying clothes, especially as I get a tax-deductible allowance.

I was single for a long time and felt very much alone in the world, and talk of family values upset me very much at that phase in my life, because I used to think: 'What about people like me?'

Bloody Christmas, here again, let us raise a loving cup, peace on earth, goodwill to men, and make them do the washing up.

Possibly I've become less funny as I've been happier.

I think it's a question which particularly arises over women writers: whether it's better to have a happy life or a good supply of tragic plots.

In my case, the long gaps between my books have got quite a lot to do with lack of confidence. A lot of the time when I'm not writing I start thinking I can't do it.

Never trust a journalist.

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange The size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave— They got quarters and I had a half. And that orange it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park This is peace and contentment. It's new. The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all my jobs on my list And enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I'm glad I exist.

Some socks are loners They can't live in pairs.

My heart has made its mind up And I'm afraid it's you.

Write to amuse? What an appalling suggestion! I write to make people anxious and miserable and to worsen their indigestion.

On Waterloo Bridge where we said our goodbyes, the weather conditions bring tears to my eyes. I wipe them away with a black woolly glove And try not to notice I've fallen in love On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think: This is nothing. you're high on the charm and the drink. But the juke-box inside me is playing a song That says something different. And when was it wrong? On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair I am tempted to skip. You're a fool. I don't care. the head does its best but the heart is the boss- I admit it before I am halfway across

When a poem doesn't work, the first question to ask yourself is, 'Am I telling the truth?'

My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you. Whatever you’ve got lined up, My heart has made its mind up And if you can’t be signed up This year, next year will do. My heart has made its mind up And I’m afraid it’s you.

The reason modern poetry is difficult is so that the poet's wife cannot understand it.

I used to think all poets were Byronic Mad, bad and dangerous to know. And then I met a few. See Lamb 486:25.

There are so many kinds of awful men One can't avoid them all. She often said She'd never make the same mistake again: She always made a new mistake instead.