Survival...is An Infinite Capacity For Suspicion.

I Was Quite Able At The Insignificant Work I Did In Mi6, But Absolutely Dysfunctional In My Domestic Life. I Had No Experience Of Fatherhood. I Had No Example Of Marital Bliss Or The Family Unit.

I Grew Up In A Completely Bookless Household. It Was My Father's Boast That He Had Never Read A Book From End To End. I Don't Remember Any Of His Ladies Being Bookish. So I Was Entirely Dependent On My Schoolteachers For My Early Reading With The Exception Of The Wind In The Willows, Which A Stepmother Read To Me When I Was In Hospital.

A Lot Of People See Doubt As Legitimate Philosophical Posture. They Think Of Themselves In The Middle, Whereas Of Course Really, They're Nowhere.

I Was The British Spy Who Had Come Out Of The Woodwork And Told It How It Really Was, And Anything I Said To The Contrary Only Enforced The Myth. And Since I Was Writing For A Public Hooked On Bond And Desperate For The Antidote, The Myth Stuck.

I Am Still Making Order Out Of Chaos By Reinvention.