I guess I should have forgotten about it ages ago, but forgetting isn't something I'm very good at.

I can see that now. I can see everything once it’s already happened — I’m very good at the past. It’s the present I can’t understand.

I have less time, less tolerance for bullshit, more interest in good taste, more confidence in my own judgement. The culture with which I surround myself is a reflection of my personality and the circumstances of my life, which is in part how it should be.

I've committed to nothing...and that's just suicide...by tiny, tiny increments.

Asking the head I have now to explain its own thinking is as pointless as dialing your own telephone number on your own telephone: Either way, you get an engaged signal. Or your own answer message, if you have that kind of phone system.

Sometimes we have to be judged by our one-offs.

What went wrong? Nothing and everything.