Lonely People Have Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always

They Were Dancing Around The Fountain, Arm In Arm, In An Old Dutch Dance, Their Cheeks Touching, Their Hands Entwined. They Had No Music; They Hummed. And There Was No Reason For Them To Be Dancing That Peter Lake Could See, Except That It Was An Exceptionally Beautiful Night.

My Father Ran London Films. He Made Films Like 'the Red Shoes,' 'the Third Man.' And He Had Had A Long Career In The Film Business, Which Was Bifurcated With A Career In Intelligence. He Had To Deal With Gangsters, And Sometimes He Would Take Me With Him. Also, I Went To School With Their Children.

I Am Religious By Nature, I'm Not A Nihilist. I Don't Follow, I Don't Even Know What The Tenets Of Things Like Deconstructionism Are, And All Those Schools That Come Up And Their Way Of Looking At Things That People Strive To Incorporate Into What They Write. I Don't Even Know What They Are. Because I Sense From A Distance That I Don't Want To Know. And Therefore Even If I Had No Politics, Actual Politics, My Cultural Point Of View Is Hopelessly Out Of Date With The Modern Literary Sensibility. Which Is Nihilistic, And Ironic, Detached, Cool, And Cowardly.

In Daily Life Language Is Important, If Not In Itself, Then As A Symptom.

He Moved Like A Dancer, Which Is Not Surprising; A Horse Is A Beautiful Animal, But It Is Perhaps Most Remarkable Because It Moves As If It Always Hears Music.