I Simply Seem To Drift. But I

Put Your Backbone Where Your Wishbone Is.

And The Process Of Reading Is Such A Private One. I Once Came Into A Room Where A Friend Of Mine Was Reading One Of My Books, And He Clicked His Tongue Impatiently And Shooed Me Off.

I Have A Reputation For Being Hermitlike. I'm Not. I'm Just Obsessed With My Work.

I Am Certainly Not Allergic To Causes - Particularly On Subjects Such As Religious Intolerance.

But I Too Hate Long Books: The Better, The Worse. If They're Bad They Merely Make Me Pant With The Effort Of Holding Them Up For A Few Minutes. But If They're Good, I Turn Into A Social Moron For Days, Refusing To Go Out Of My Room, Scowling And Growling At Interruptions, Ignoring Weddings And Funerals, And Making Enemies Out Of Friends. I Still Bear The Scars Of Middlemarch.