No well-run yacht basin in Southern waters is complete without at least two sun-burned, salt bleached-headed Esthonians who are waiting for a check from their last article. When it comes they will set sail to another yacht basin and write another saga.

Live the full life of the mind, exhilarated by new ideas, intoxicated by the Romance of the unusual.

How would that premise stand up if he examined it? That was probably why the Communists were always cracking down on Bohemiansism. When you were drunk or when you committed adultery you recognised your own personal fallability of that so mutable substitute for the apostles' creed, the party line. Down with Bohemianism, the sin of Majakowski.

Do not think about sin, he thought. There are enough problems now without sin. Also I have no understanding of it.

Night life is when everybody says what the hell and you do not remember who paid the bill.

Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light.

It's enough for you to do it once for a few men to remember you. But if you do it year after year, then many people remember you and they tell it to their children, and their children and grandchildren remember and, if it concerns books, they can read them. And if it's good enough, it will last as long as there are human beings.