What Are We? Humans? Or Animals? Or

I'm Not A Critic So Much Of My Own Writing. People Must Make Up Their Own Minds Over That.

How Can You Expect To Be Rescued If You Don’t Put First Things First And Act Proper?

Ralph... Would Treat The Day's Decisions As Though He Were Playing Chess. The Only Trouble Was That He Would Never Be A Very Good Chess Player.

Then You Have People Coming Up Like Malcolm Bradbury, A Relatively Young Writer Who Deals With The Academic Scene And Deals With It, I Think, Brilliantly.

Roger Stooped, Picked Up A Stone, Aimed And Threw It At Henry-threw It To Miss. The Stone, That Token Of Preposterous Time, Bounced Five Yards To Henry's Right And Fell In The Water. Roger Gathered A Handful Of Stones And Began To Throw Them. Yet There Was A Space Round Henry, Perhaps Six Yards In Diameter, Into Which He Dare Not Throw. Here, Invisible Yet Strong, Was The Taboo Of The Old Life. Round The Squatting Child Was The Protection Of Parents And School And Policemen And The Law. Roger Was Conditioned By A Civilization That Knew Nothing Of Him And Was In Ruins.