If There Was A Little Room Somewhere

The People Who Pretend That Dying Is Rather Like Strolling Into The Next Room Always Leave Me Unconvinced. Death, Like Birth, Must Be A Tremendous Event.

But Some Of Us Are Beginning To Pull Well Away, In Our Irritation, From...the Exquisite Tasters, The Vintage Snobs, The Three-star Michelin Gourmets. There Is, We Feel, A Decent Area Somewhere Between Boiled Carrots And Beluga Caviare, Sour Plonk And Chateau Lafitte, Where We Can Take Care Of Our Gullets And Bellies Without Worshipping Them.

A Novelist Who Writes Nothing For 10 Years Finds His Reputation Rising. Because I Keep On Producing Books They Say There Must Be Something Wrong With This Fellow.

A Loving Wife Will Do Anything For Her Husband Except Stop Criticizing Him And Trying To Improve Him.

What A Grand, Higgledy-piggledy, Sensible Old Place Norwich Is!