Is Not The Whole World A Vast

All America Is Much The Same.

When I Was Young, We Thought That Oscar Wilde Was A Great Nobleman Who Had Thrown His Life Away For Love. Nothing Could Be Less True. He Slept With East Enders Who Were Procured For Him By Lord Alfred Douglas. He Knew Them Only 'in Braille' - The Curtains Were Never Drawn Back In The Rooms In Oxford Where He Met Those Boys. It Was The Most Sordid Life You Can Imagine. And He Was Bleating About Love And Dragging The Fair Name Of Mr. Plato Into The Trial - After A Life Like That?

I Came First To America In 1977 At The Invitation Of A Man Who Wanted To Make My Life Story Into A Musical. But My Agent Said It Was Not To Be And It Was Never Done. So I Went Back, But I'd Seen New York, And I Wanted To Live There. Because Everybody Talks To You In The Street. See, Nobody Talks To You In England.

Abatement In The Hostility Of One's Enemies Must Never Be Thought To Signify They Have Been Won Over. It Only Means That One Has Ceased To Constitute A Threat.

If I Have Any Talent At All, It Is Not For Doing But For Being.