I Am Death, Not Taxes. I Turn

There Was A Man And He Had Eight Sons. Apart From That, He Was Nothing More Than A Comma On The Page Of History. It's Sad, But That's All You Can Say About Some People.

Once You've Ruled Out The Impossible Then Whatever Is Left, However Improbable, Must Be The Truth. The Problem Lay In Working Out What Was Impossible, Of Course. That Was The Trick, All Right. There Was Also The Curious Incident Of The Orangutan In The Night-time.

It Is Said That Whomsoever The Gods Wish To Destroy, They First Make Mad. In Fact, Whomsoever The Gods Wish To Destroy, They First Hand The Equivalent Of A Stick With A Fizzing Fuse And Acme Dynamite Company Written On The Side. It's More Interesting, And Doesn't Take So Long.

Opera Happens Because A Large Number Of Things Amazingly Fail To Go Wrong.

In The Ramtops Village Where They Dance The Real Morris Dance, For Example, They Believe That No-one Is Finally Dead Until The Ripples They Cause In The World Die Away - Until The Clock He Wound Up Winds Down, Until The Wine She Made Has Finished Its Ferment, Until The Crop They Planted Is Harvested. The Span Of Someone's Life, They Say, Is Only The Core Of Their Actual Existence.