Memories Are Not Shackles, Franklin, They Are

Art Comes Out Of Art; It Begins With Imitation, Often In The Form Of Parody, And It's In The Process Of Imitating The Voice Of Others That One Comes To Learn The Sound Of One's Own.

Of Course My Standards Are Out Of Date! That's Why They're Called Standards.

One Reads For Pleasure...it Is Not A Public Duty.

The Breed Never Dies. Sapper, Buchan, Dornford Yates, Practitioners In That School Of Snobbery Withviolence That Runs Like A Thread Of Good-class Tweed Through Twentieth-century Literature.

Here I Sit, Alone At 60, Bald And Fat And Full Of Sin Cold The Seat, And Loud The Cistern As I Read The (harpic) (lysol) Tin