Never fall in love?" "Always," said the count. "I am always in love.

I was blown up while we were eating cheese.

Now, being in Africa, I was hungry for more of it, the changes of the seasons, the rains with no need to travel, the discomforts that you paid to make it real, the names of the trees, of the small animals, and all the birds, to know the language and have time to be in it and to move slowly.

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.

One cat just leads to another. The place is so damned big it doesn't really seem as though there were many cats until you see them all moving like a mass migration at feeding time.

The bicycle riders drank much wine, and were burned and browned by the sun. They did not take the race seriously except among themselves.

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.