I Have Less Time, Less Tolerance For

One Could Argue That Most Of The Trouble In The World Is Caused By Introspection.

Not For The First Time In My Life, And Certainly Not For The Last, A Self-righteous Gloom Had Edged Out All Semblance Of Logic.

The Plain State Of Being Human Is Dramatic Enough For Anyone; You Don't Need To Be A Heroin Addict Or A Performance Poet To Experience Extremity. You Just Have To Love Someone.

Yes, Yes, I Know All The Jokes. What Else Could I Have Expected At Highbury? But I Went To Chelsea And To Tottenham And To Rangers, And Saw The Same Thing: That The Natural State Of A Football Fan Is Bitter Disappointment, No Matter What The Score.

I Was Still Owed An Explanation, I Thought, But So What? What Good Was It Going To Do Me? It Wouldn't Have Made Me Any Happier. It Was Like Scratching When You Have Chicken Pox. You Think It's Going To Help, But The Itch Moves Over, And Then Moves Over Again. My Itch Suddenly Felt Miles Away, And I Couldn't Have Reached It With The Longest Arms In The World. Realizing That Made Me Scared That I Was Going To Be Itchy Forever, And I Didn't Want That.