One Never Quite Allows For The Moron

I Didn't Want To Work. It Was As Simple As That. I Distrusted Work, Disliked It. I Thought It Was A Very Bad Thing That The Human Race Had Unfortunately Invented For Itself.

There Is Something About Conscious Tact That Is Very Irritating.

I Have No Pity For Myself Either. So Let It Be Veronal. But I Wish Hercule Poirot Had Never Retired From Work And Come Here To Grow Vegetable Marrows.

Where Do One's Fears Come From? Where Do They Shape Themselves? Where Do They Hide Before Coming Out Into The Open?

God Bless My Soul, Woman, The More Personal You Are The Better! This Is A Story Of Human Beings - Not Dummies! Be Personal - Be Prejudiced - Be Catty - Be Anything You Please! Write The Thing Your Own Way. We Can Always Prune Out The Bits That Are Libellous Afterwards!