No, for I do not know where I should put it

[Thomas] Blount’s execution resulted in the one of the greatest displays of wit in the face of adversity ever recorded. As he was sitting down watching his extracted entrails being burned in front of him, he was asked if he would like a drink. ‘No, for I do not know where I should put it’, he replied.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 209

Historians have argued for many years over whether Richard went mad in 1397

Historians have argued for many years over whether Richard went mad in 1397. In the mid-twentieth century it was thought that he had indeed lost his mind, and the death of Queen Anne was identified as one of the catalyst. But really this is a modern myth.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 136

No one, not even the king, was so well connected as Henry

Twelve of the most prominent young men of the realm were to be knighted in a special service. … If ever there was an event which demonstrated Henry’s position at the heart of English aristocracy, it was this ceremony. Imagine the oak doors to the chapel closing behind them, and each of the twelve youths casting sideways glances at each other as they stood ready to be knighted. No one, not even the king, was so well connected as Henry. He was related to all but one of them.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 33

Henry and Richard were born rivals

Henry and Richard were born rivals. For a start, they were almost exactly the same age. Richard was born at Bordeaux, in Gascony, on 6 January 1367; Henry was born at Bolingbroke, in Lincolnshire, just three months later. Although they would not have met until they were five or six, they were regarded as a pair, on account of them both being the king’s grandchildren and the same age. Moreover, they were the only two royal children of this age; the next eldest, Roger Mortimer, was seven years younger. … they were the heirs of the two most important dynasties in England. More than a hundred years earlier, King Henry III had two sons The elder had been crowned Edward I. The younger, Edmund, has been endowed with a massive inheritance in the north of England, centred on Lancaster which gave rise to his title of earl of Lancaster.

I. Mortimer, The fears of Henry IV (2007), 19

I don't dream ... and not for "free" anyway

I once put together a book called The Tiger Garden: A Book of Writer's Dreams. Every day I sat at my desk typing up other people's dreams. Because it was a charity project intended to benefit Amnesty International, I was unable to offer payment to contributors. 'I don't dream,' wrote actor and writer Dirk Bogarde in response to my request, 'and not for "free" anyway.' The book was dismissed by critic Harry Ritchie as 'uniquely pointless and stupid', so he's not going to enjoy the current book, which will feature some of my dreams about books, writers, bookshops and critics, including at least one in which Harry Ritchie appears. 

N. Royle, White spines: confessions of a book collector (2020), 15

A deep, pathological loathing, for that word - 'reread'

The writer Conrad Williams, has a dislike, if not a deep, pathological loathing, for that word - 'reread'. I know what he means. At least, I think I do. You know the sort of the thing 'I'm rereading Proust.' 'I was rereading Hamlet the other day' 'This summer, when we go to Tuscany, I am looking forward to rereading Nakokov's stories.' That sort of thing. They want you to know they've read Proust or Hamlet or Nakokov's stories before. In fact they're terrified lest you think they're so ignorant and poorly read that they're only just getting round to reading Proust or Hamlet or Nakokov's stories.

N. Royle, White spines: confessions of a book collector (2020),13 

The English usually boil their vegetables to a submissive, sticky pulp

There is a great difference in the ordinary preparation of vegetables by the English and by us. The English usually boil their vegetables to a submissive, sticky pulp, in which the shape and, as some say, the flavor have long since been overcome. Our cooks do not cook their veg­etables nearly so long, are apt to like them crisp. The English do not use nearly as many onions as we do and they use practically no garlic at all. The little gardens are a kind of symbol of revolt against foreign methods.

J. Steinbeck [15 July 1943], Once there was a war (1959), 70