For plain and fancy worrying, give me a new mother every time.
I very much dislike writing about myself or my work, and when pressed for autobiographical material can only give a bare chronological outline which contains no pertinent facts.
Bridge is a game for the undivided intellect.
I delight in what I fear.
God! Whose hand was I holding?
You will be wondering about that sugar bowl, I imagine, is it still in use? You are wondering, has it been cleaned? You may very well ask, was it thoroughly washed?