I Left School At 16 And Skipped

Very Little Happens In My Books.

The English Kill Their Meat Twice: Once When They Slaughter It And Once When They Cook It.

It Is At A Time Like This, When Crisis Threatens The Stomach, That The French Display The Most Sympathetic Side Of Their Nature. Tell Them Stories Of Physical Injury Or Financial Ruin And They Will Either Laugh Or Commiserate Politely. But Tell Them You Are Facing Gastronomic Hardship, And They Will Move Heaven And Earth And Even Restaurant Tables To Help You.

I Have A Terrible Weakness For Collecting Snatches Of Other People's Conversations, And Occasionally I'm Rewarded With Unusual Fragments Of Knowledge. My Favorite Of The Day Came From A Large But Shapely Woman Sitting Nearby Whom I Learned Was The Owner Of A Local Lingerie Shop. 'beh Oui,' She Said To Her Companion, Waving Her Spoon For Emphasis, 'il Faut Du Temps Pour La Corsetterie.' You Can't Argue With That. I Made A Mental Note Not To Rush Things Next Time I Was Shopping For A Corset, And Leaned Back To Allow The Waiter Through With The Next Course.

Good Manners Make Any Man A Pleasure To Be With. Ask Any Woman.