I Am Married To Someone I Love.

We Do Not Choose To Be Born. We Do Not Choose Our Parents, Or The Country Of Our Birth. We Do Not, Most Of Us, Choose To Die; Nor Do We Choose The Time And Conditions Of Our Death. But Within This Realm Of Choicelessnness, We Do Choose How We Live.

I Should Prefer To Die Laughing, And, On More Than One Occasion, Thought I Might.

I Was Recently Asked What It Takes To Become A Writer. Three Things, I Answered: First, One Must Cultivate Incompetence At Almost Every Other Form Of Profitable Work. This Must Be Accompanied, Second, By A Haughty Contempt For All The Forms Of Work That One Has Established One Cannot Do. To These Two Must Be Joined, Third, The Nuttiness To Believe That Other People Can Be Made To Care About Your Opinions And Views And Be Charmed By The Way You State Them. Incompetence, Contempt, Lunacy—once You Have These In Place, You Are Set To Go.

The Decisive Moment In The Defeat Of Upper Class, Capital-s, Society May Have Come When, In Newspapers All Over The Nation, What Used To Be Call The Society Page Was Replaced By The Style Section.

By The Way, The Secret Of Speaking French Is Confidence. Whether You Are Right Or Wrong, You Don't Hesitate.