The Whole Idea Of Interviews Is In

When People Really Hate One Another, The Tension Within Them Can Sometimes Make Itself Felt Throughout A Room, Like Atmospheric Waves, First Hot, Then Cold, Wafted Backwards And Forwards As If In An Invisible Process Of Air Conditioning, Creating A Pervasive Physical Disturbance.

Slowly, But Very Deliberately, The Brooding Edifice Of Seduction, Creaking And Incongruous, Came Into Being, A Vast Heath Robinson Mechanism, Dually Controlled By Them And Lumbering Gloomily Down Vistas Of Triteness. With A Sort Of Heavy-fisted Dexterity The Mutually Adapted Emotions Of Each Of Them Became Synchronized, Until The Unavoidable Anti-climax Was At Hand.

There Is, After All, No Pleasure Like That Given By A Woman Who Really Wants To See You.

The Whole Idea Of Interviews Is In Itself Absurd - One Cannot Answer Deep Questions About What One's Life Was Like - One Writes Novels About It.

Few Persons Who Have Ever Sat For A Portrait Can Have Felt Anything But Inferior While The Process Is Going On.