An Orotundity, Which I Define As Nobelitis

Are We Savages Or What?

What Could Be Safer Than The Bus Center With Its Lamps And Wheels?

I Mean, If We're Concerned Genuinely With Writing, I Think We Probably Get On With Our Work. I Think This Is Very True Of English Writers, But Perhaps Not So True Of French Writers, Who Seem To Read Each Other Passionately, Extensively, And Endlessly, And Who Then Talk About It To Each Other - Which Is Splendid.

He Lost Himself In A Maze Of Thoughts That Were Rendered Vague By His Lack Of Words To Express Them. Frowning, He Tried Again.

I Also Know Patrick White In Australia, Both Personally And As A Writer, And Salman Rushdie In India.