But I belong to the other English, who don't like the right pigeon-hole used for the wrong papers, or the wrong label on the right box

How happy everybody was, we were told, and I suppose they were - some English love improvisation and 'do it yourself'. But I belong to the other English, who don't like the right pigeon-hole used for the wrong papers, or the wrong label on the right box. I chafed under all this glorious dissolution, chafed for law and order.

A. Wilson, The old men at the zoo (1961), 278

Winchester, New College, and the Treasury are the three places where they know everything

Anyway you know it all. You were at the Treasury. Winchester, New College, and the Treasury are the three places where they know everything.

A. Wilson, The old men at the zoo (1961), 71

The problem is that while it's true that "Gospel" has lost its original sense and, in fact, now has now meaning at all, writing "good news" in its place is a cure that's worse than the disease

Most people today think that "Gospel" designates a literary genre, the story of Jesus' life, and that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John wrote Gospels the way that Racine wrote tragedies or Ronsard sonnets. But that meaning only established itself about the second century. The word that Mark wrote at the start of his narrative meant "good news." When Paul wrote to the Galatians and Corinthians thirty years earlier about "my Gospel," it meant: what I preached to you, my personal version of this good news. The problem is that while it's true that "Gospel" has lost its original sense and, in fact, now has now meaning at all, writing "good news" in its place is a cure that's worse than the disease: it has a "nice Catholic" ring to it, you instantly imagine the priest's syrupy smile and voice.

E. Carrere, The Kingdom (2014), tr. J, Lambert, 333

Intoxicated: beastly work, but how can I help it?

[The diary of the Marquess of Dalhousie]

Take for example, a few typical entries during the first six months of 1830. 'Dined in Hall at 5. Could get nothing to eat.' Chapel: 'beastly music and singing';  or again, 'skipped chapel; my character for regularity may perhaps carry me through'. Then came the wine parties. 'Intoxicated: beastly work, but how can I help it?' Once more: 'Fourteen of us had supper in my rooms. the most tremendous row was created till 1/2 past one, when we went out to walk, and on my return I found Cunningham sitting eating the leg-bone of a turkey by the fire, with all my glasses in shivers round him. Never will have a party in my rooms again if I can help it.'

K. Feiling, In Christ Church Hall (1960), 163-4 [chapter on Dalhousie] 

A reservoir for the landed aristocracy, whose sons were inclined to treat college life as a blend of a wine-party and a hunting-box

[Christ Church] stood in particular for two things, each of them narrow, complacent and outworn. First it was held to be a reservoir for the landed aristocracy, whose sons were inclined to treat college life as a blend of a wine-party and a hunting-box, and when they matured translated their college toasts of 'Church and King' into policies defensible in the House of Commons. In sober fact, of course, so far as undergraduates went, till the middle of the last century a second and much larger element were candidates for holy orders, so fulfilling one main purpose of their founders.

...

Certainly for the first half of it [the later nineteenth century] the two elements of Church and Land were so fused and and interpenetrated that they made almost one substance. 

K. Feiling, In Christ Church Hall (1960), 129 [chapter on Edward Bouverie Pusey]