Such Excess Of Passion Is Quite Out

Mr Earbrass Stands On The Terrace At Twilight. It Is Bleak; It Is Cold; And The Virtue Has Gone Out Of Everything. Words Drift Through His Mind: Anguish Turnips Conjunctions Illness Defeat String Parties No Parties Urns Desuetude Disaffection Claws Loss Trebizond Napkins Shame Stones Distance Fever Antipodes Mush Glaciers Incoherence Labels Miasma Amputation Tides Deceit Mourning Elsewards.

Vice Is Nice, But A Little Virtue Won't Hurt You.

I Really Think I Write About Everyday Life. I Don't Think I'm Quite As Odd As Others Say I Am.

To Take My Work Seriously Would Be The Height Of Folly.

Books, Cats, Life Is Good.