Like All Harsh, Cold Men, He Was

Le Chiffre Was Serving A Wonderful Purpose, A Really Vital Purpose, Perhaps The Best And Highest Purpose Of All. By His Evil Existence, Which Foolishly I Have Helped To Destroy, He Was Creating A Norm Of Badness By Which, And By Which Alone, An Opposite Norm Of Goodness Could Exist. We Were Privileged, In Our Short Knowledge Of Him, To See And Estimate His Wickedness And We Emerge From The Acquaintanceship Better And More Virtuous Men.

These Blithering Women Who Thought They Could Do A Man's Work. Why The Hell Couldn't They Stay At Home And Mind Their Pots And Pans And Stick To Their Frocks And Gossip And Leave Men's Work To The Men.

Loneliness Becomes A Lover, Solitude A Darling Sin.

It’s Just That I’d Rather Die Of Drink Than Of Thirst.

I Don't Regard James Bond Precisely As A Hero, But At Least He Does Get On And Do His Duty, In An Extremely Corny Way.