Moments of kindness and reconciliation are worth having, even if the parting has to come sooner or later.

What if people really did that - sent their love through the mail to get rid of it? What would it be that they sent? A box of chocolates with centers like the yolks of turkey eggs. A mud doll with hollow eye sockets. A heap of roses slightly more fragrant than rotten. A package wrapped in bloody newspaper that nobody would want to open.

I never have a problem with finding material. I wait for it to turn up, and it always turns up. It’s dealing with the material I’m inundated with that poses the problem.

Why is it a surprise to find that people other than ourselves are able to tell lies?

The skin of everyday appearances stretched over such shamelessness, such consuming explosions of lust.

And did I not think then, What nonsense it is to suppose one man so different from another when all that life really boils down to is getting a decent cup of coffee and room to stretch out in?

The story fails but your faith in the importance of doing the story doesn't fail.