She Wanted To Crawl Into His Pocket

As We Passed Over The Dark Bridge Her Wan Face Fell Lazily Against My Coat's Shoulder And The Formidable Stroke Of Thirty Died Away With The Reassuring Pressure Of Her Hand.

I Suppose Books Mean More Than People To Me Anyway

Then Came The War, Old Sport. It Was A Great Relief, And I Tried Very Hard To Die, But I Seemed To Bear An Enchanted Life.

Reporting The Extreme Things As If They Were The Average Things Will Start You On The Art Of Fiction.

I'm Merely Trying To Give You The Sort Of Argument That Would Appeal To Your Intelligence.