I Think In Retrospect That All Those

In Our Benighted Age, When Films About Amusement Park Rides And Electronic Fidgets Scoop The Honours, Perhaps Hollywood Redux Is The Best We Can Hope For.

The Novelist, Quite Rightly, Fears The Psychoanalyst As Both An Enemy And A Usurper.

I Think I Now Understand Why It Is That The Young Are So Very Nostalgic. They Have So Little By Way Of Personal History That They Polish It Up And Make It Shine Like A Treasured Heirloom.

Like All Right-listening Folk, I Am An Implacable Enemy Of All Muzak.

Nowadays, My Mood Ungoverned, I'm Free To Think The Most Outrageous Things, Such As: Might It Not Be A Good Idea To Insist That Drug Companies Give Their Preparations Names That Tell The User What They Really Do?