Once Outside The Magic Circle The Writers

I Imagine The Proverb About Too Many Cooks Spoiling The Broth Can Be Applied To Writing As Well As Anything Else. The Poetical Or Literary Broth Is Better Cooked By One Person.

You Know Mildred Would Never Do Anything Wrong Or Foolish. I Reflected A Little Sadly That This Was Only Too True And Hoped I Did Not Appear Too Much That Kind Of Person To Others. Virtue Is An Excellent Thing And We Should All Strive After It, But It Can Sometimes Be A Little Depressing.

Perhaps There Can Be Too Much Making Of Cups Of Tea, I Thought, As I Watched Miss Statham Filling The Heavy Teapot. Did We Really Need A Cup Of Tea? I Even Said As Much To Miss Statham And She Looked At Me With A Hurt, Almost Angry Look, 'do We Need Tea? She Echoed. 'but Miss Lathbury...' She Sounded Puzzled And Distressed And I Began To Realise That My Question Had Struck At Something Deep And Fundamental. It Was The Kind Of Question That Starts A Landslide In The Mind. I Mumbled Something About Making A Joke And That Of Course One Needed Tea Always, At Every Hour Of The Day Or Night.

[the Woman] Paused And Seemed To Take A Deep Breath. 'you See,' She Declared. 'i Am Tom Mallow's Aunt.' Catherine's First Instinct Was To Burst Out Laughing. She Wondered Why There Was Something Slightly Absurd About Aunts; Perhaps It Was Because One Thought Of Them As Dear, Comfortable Creatures, Somehow Lacking In Dignity And Prestige.

I Pulled Myself Up And Told Myself To Stop These Ridiculous Thoughts, Wondering Why It Is That We Can Never Stop Trying To Analyse The Motives Of People Who Have No Personal Interest In Us, In The Vain Hope Of Finding That Perhaps They May Have Just A Little After All.