There's A Certain Amount Of Tyranny In

Words Are Nets Through Which All Truth Escapes.

We Are, In This Country, More Open To New Ideas. But We Are Also, It Seems To Me, More Inclined To Hail The New As Absolute Truth - Until The Next New Comes Along.

Life Was An Impenetrable Mystery Cloaked In Babble.

Families Hold Each Other In An Iron Grip Of Definition. One Must Break The Grip, Somehow.

A Year And A Half After The End Of The War And The German Occupation, Paris Was Muted And Looked Bruised And Forlorn. Everywhere I Went, I Sensed The Tracks Of The Wolf That Had Tried To Devour The City. But Paris Proved Inedible, As It Had Been Ever Since Its Tribal Beginnings On An Island In The Seine, The Ile De La Cité.