When I Was Younger, I Didn't Read

What Is Pertinent Is The Calmness Of That Beauty, Its Sense Of Restraint.

There Comes A Point When You Can More Or Less Count The Number Of Books You're Going To Write Before You Die.

Don’t You Wonder Sometimes, What Might Have Happened If You Tried?

But Then, I Suppose, When With The Benefit Of Hindsight One Begins To Search One's Past For Such 'turning Points', One Is Apt To Start Seeing Them Everywhere.

It Was Like There Was Some Parallel Universe We All Vanished Off To Where We Had All This Sex.