Life Is The Great Teacher.

(...) You Cruel Creature, Little Mite Of A Thing With A Heart The Size Of A Fullstop.

The Only Decent People I Ever Saw At The Racecourse Were Horses.

Beware The Horns Of A Bull, The Heels Of The Horse, And The Smile Of An Englishman.

Every Life Is In Many Days, Day After Day. We Walk Through Ourselves, Meeting Robbers, Ghosts, Giants, Old Men, Young Men, Wives, Widows, Brothers-in-love. But Always Meeting Ourselves.

What Birds Were They? (...) He Listened To The Cries: Like The Squeak Of Mice Be- Hind The Wainscot : A Shrill Twofold Note. But The Notes Were Long And Shrill And Whirring, Unlike The Cry Of Vermin, Falling A Third Or A Fourth And Trilled As The Flying Beaks Clove The Air. Their Cry Was Shrill And Clear And Fine And Falling Like Threads Of Silken Light Unwound From Whirring Spools.