[T]he shorter words of a language are usually the more ancient ... Their meaning is more ingrained in the national character and they appeal with greater force to simple understanding.

To sit at one’s table on a sunny morning, with four clear hours of uninterruptible security, plenty of nice white paper, and a Squeezer pen – that is true happiness.

I feel devoutly thankful to have been born fond of writing.

They [the dictators] are afraid of words and thoughts: words spoken abroad, thoughts stirring at home – all the more powerful because forbidden – terrify them.

I got into my bones the essential structure of the ordinary British sentence – which is a noble thing ... I would let the clever ones learn Latin as an honour, and Greek as a treat. But the only thing I would whip them for is not knowing English.

In the Spring of 1899, I became conscious of the fact that there was another Winston Churchill, who also wrote books; apparently he wrote novels, and very good novels, too ... I received from many quarters congratulations on my skill as a writer of fiction. I thought at first that this was due to a belated appreciated of the merits of Savrola.

I have consistently urged my friends to abstain from reading it.

Writing a book is an adventure. To begin with it is a toy, then an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, and then it becomes a master, and then it becomes a tyrant and, in the last stage, just as you are about to be recon- ciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.

Churchill’s original book deal for the war memoirs was worth £555,000; the American book and serial rights were sold for $14 million! Churchill could now live in the manner to which he...