This is one of the cruelties of the theatre of life; we all think of ourselves as stars and rarely recognize it when we are indeed mere supporting characters or even supernumeraries.

The dog is a yes-animal. Very popular with people who can't afford a yes man.

The average politician goes through a sentence like a man exploring a disused mine shaft-blind, groping, timorous and in imminent danger of cracking his shins on a subordinate clause or a nasty bit of subjunctive.

Conversation in its true meaning isn't all wagging the tongue; sometimes it is a deeply shared silence.

The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact, a return to the idealized past.

One can always tell it's summer when one sees school teachers hanging about the streets idly, looking like cannibals during a shortage of missionaries.

"There is no disputing about tastes," says the old saw. In my experience there is little else.