I’m leaving because the weather is too good. I hate London when it’s not raining.

Groucho Marx (1890-1977)

You will recognise, my boy, the first sign of old age: it is when you go out into the streets of London and realize for the first time how young the policemen look.

Sir Seymour Hicks (1871-1949)

Go where we may, rest where we will, / Eternal London haunts us still.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852)

The city defeated him. It refused to be bent into shape; it stayed a willful, sprawling, sinful place. It even told him as much. When he walked through the gutted wreck of old Saint Paul’s, he tripped and fell over a piece of rubble — a tombstone. When he got to his feet and dusted himself down he saw that it read, in Latin, ‘Resurgam’ — ‘I Will Rise Again.

Jonathan Barnes (b.1979), The Somnambulist (Domino Men)

Do you realise that people die of boredom in London suburbs? It’s the second biggest cause of death amongst the English in general. Sheer boredom . . .

Alexander McCall Smith (b.1948), Friends, Lovers, Chocolate