You could see he was an Englishman first and a Christian second

Arthur Box-Bender was seeking to make himself agreeable to the domestic prelate '... not a member of your persuasion myself but I'm bound to say your Cardinal Hinsley did a wonderful job of work on the wireless. You could see he was an Englishman first and a Christian second; that is more than you can say of one or two of our bishops.' 

E. Waugh, Unconditional Surrender (1961), in collected edition, Sword of Honour (1984), 435

Tactics as interpreted by Brigadier Ritche-Hook consisted of the art of biffing

Tactics as interpreted by Brigadier Ritche-Hook consisted of the art of biffing. Defence was studied cursorily and only as the period of reorganization between two bloody assaults. The Withdrawal was never mentioned. The Attack and the Element of Surprise were all.  

E. Waugh, Men at Arms (1952), in collected edition, Sword of Honour (1984), 110-1

For nothing much, he assumed, could reasonably be expected from the commonalty; it was remarkable how well some of them did behave on occasions

He was quite without class conscousness because he saw the whole intricate social structure of his country divided neatly into two unequal and unmistakeable parts. On the one side stood the Crouchbacks and certain inconspicuous, anciently allied families; on the other stood the rest of mankind, Box-Bender, the butcher, the Duke of Omnium (whose onetime wealth derived from monastic spoils), Lloyd George, Neville Chamberlain - all of a piece together. Mr Crouchback acknowledged no monarch since James II. It was not an entirely sane conspectus but it engendered in his gentle breast two rare qualities, tolerance and humility. For nothing much, he assumed, could reasonably be expected from the commonalty; it was remarkable how well some of them did behave on occasions; while, for himself, any virtue he had came from afar without his deserving, and every small fault was grossly culpable in a man of his high tradition.

E. Waugh, Men at Arms (1952), in collected edition, Sword of Honour (1984), 28  

Note the nice Trollope reference to the Duke of Omnium

Barcelona had been the clever, rich uncle, aloof, scarcely Spanish at all

After the medieval towns and villages of central Spain, Barcelona revealed an alien industrial Europe, long squat suburbs and shabby concrete factories - a language far more cynical, knowing and enervating than the primitive naiveties of Castile.

The small greedy streets crossed each other like lines in a ledger, leading finally to the grand ruled boulevards. Compared with dandy, spendthrift Madrid, Barcelona had been the clever, rich uncle, aloof, scarcely Spanish at all. All its fine calculations, now, seemed blurred, blotted and cancelled. Across banks and offices sagged the war's first banner of defiance and challenge, muted and fading as the grey figures in the streets.

L. Lee, A moment of war (1991), 166-7

The chance to make one grand, uncomplicated gesture of personal sacrifice

You could pick out the British by their nervous jerking heads, native air of suspicion, and constant stream of self-effacing jokes. These, again, could be divided up into the ex-convicts, the alcoholics, the wizened miners, dockers, noisy politicos and dreamy undergraduates busy scribbling manifestos and notes to their boyfriends. ... I believe, we shared something else, unique to us at the time - the chance to make one grand, uncomplicated gesture of personal sacrifice and faith which might never occur again. Certainly, it was the last time this century that a generation had such an opportunity before the fog of nationalism and mass slaughter closed in.

L. Lee, A moment of war (1991), 45-46

Third-rate works surround an outstanding work without any recognition of what fundamentally differentiates them

Visitors to art museums are often overwhelmed by the number of works on display, and by what they take to be their cupable inability to concentrate on more than a few if these works. In fact such a reaction is reasonable. Art history has totally failed to  come to terms with the problem of the relationship between the outstanding work and the average work of the European tradition. The notion of genius is not in itself an adequate answer. Consequently the confusion remains on the walls of the galleries. Third-rate works surround an outstanding work without any recognition - let alone explanation - of what fundamentally differentiates them. 

J. Berger, Ways of seeing (1972), 88