I Thought Of Inviting You To My

Early This Morning, 1 January 2021, Three Minutes After Midnight, The Last Human Being To Be Born On Earth Was Killed In A Pub Brawl In A Suburb Of Buenos Aires, Aged Twenty-five Years, Two Months And Twelve Days.

I Am Fifty Years Old And I Have Never Known What It Is To Love. I Can Write Those Words, Know Them To Be True, But Feel Only The Regret That A Tone-deaf Man Must Feel Because He Can't Appreicate Music, A Regret Less Keen Because It Is For Something Never Known, Not For Something Lost.

I Don't See Why Escapist Literature Shouldn't Also Be A Work Of Art.

[my Father And His Friends] Believed In Equality For Women Without Troubling To Acquire The Basic Domestic Skills Which Would Have Made That Equality Possible.

Not So Much Two Ships Passing In The Night As Two Ships Sailing Together For A Time But Always Bound For Different Ports.