Life Is, Of Course, Terrible.

If I Had Died It Would Have Been Even Better For You Political Bratchnies, Would It Not, Pretending And Treacherous Droogs As You Are.' But All That Came Out Was Er Er Er.

It Was Like A Bird Of Rarest-spun Heaven Metal Or Like Silvery Wine Flowing In A Spaceship, Gravity All Nonsense Now.

If You Expect The Worst From A Person You Can Never Be Disappointed.

Novelists Are Perhaps The Last People In The World To Be Entrusted With Opinions. The Nature Of A Novel Is That It Has No Opinions, Only The Dialectic Of Contrary Views, Some Of Which, All Of Which, May Be Untenable And Even Silly. A Novelist Should Not Be Too Intelligent Either, Although He May Be Permitted To Be An Intellectual.

Oh, It Was Gorgeosity And Yumyumyum. When It Came To The Scherzo I Could Viddy Myself Very Clear Running And Running On Like The Very Light And Mysterious Nogas, Carving The Whole Litso Of The Creeching World With My Cut-throat Britva.