The Americans, Of Course, Are Quite Dotty

The World Now Seems A Stunningly Ignoble Place. It Has Not Really Grown All That Much Worse But Appears To Have Done So Because We Know So Much More About It Than We Did.

The Search For A Life-style Involves A Journey To The Interior. This Is Not Altogether A Pleasant Experience, Because You Not Only Have To Take Stock Of What You Consider Your Assets But You Also Have To Take A Long Look At What Your Friends Call “the Trouble With You.” Nevertheless, The Journey Is Worth Making.

It's A Strange Situation, But People Will Pay Your Fare To Get You To Go And Tell Them How To Be Happy.

When I Was Young, We Thought That Oscar Wilde Was A Great Nobleman Who Had Thrown His Life Away For Love. Nothing Could Be Less True. He Slept With East Enders Who Were Procured For Him By Lord Alfred Douglas. He Knew Them Only 'in Braille' - The Curtains Were Never Drawn Back In The Rooms In Oxford Where He Met Those Boys. It Was The Most Sordid Life You Can Imagine. And He Was Bleating About Love And Dragging The Fair Name Of Mr. Plato Into The Trial - After A Life Like That?

The Proprietor Had Hair So Red That Pigmentation Had Flowed Out Into Every Visible Inch Of His Skin And Even Into The Pinks Of His Eyes, As The Colour Of Flowering Cherry Trees Stains Their Leaves.