Be Good. Do Something Good.

For His Thirtieth Birthday He Had Filled A Whole Night-club Off Regent Street; People Had Been Queuing On The Pavement To Get In. The Sim Card Of His Mobile Phone In His Pocket Was Overflowing With Telephone Numbers Of All The Hundreds Of People He Had Met In The Last Ten Years, And Yet The Only Person He Had Ever Wanted To Talk To In All That Time Was Standing Now In The Very Next Room.

I Worry Sometimes That I'm A Bit Moralistic; Always Writing About Men Who Are Learning To Grow Up, Not Be So Self-absorbed, Selfish Or Badly Behaved. I Wonder If That's Dull And Liberal And Wimpy? I Should Probably Write Something That Celebrates Wickedness.

I Think You’re Amazing,’ Someone Says To Someone Else, But It Doesn’t Matter Who, Because They’re All Amazing Really. People Are Amazing.

What Must That Be Like? To Be Admired Before You’ve Even Said A Word, To Be Desired Two Or Three Hundred Times A Day By People Who Have Absolutely No Idea What You’re Like?

But At The Best Of Times She Feels Like A Character In A Muriel Spark Novel — Independent, Bookish, Sharp-minded, Secretly Romantic.