How Absurd And Delicious It

My Thoughts Went Round And Round And It Occurred To Me That If I Ever Wrote A Novel It Would Be Of The 'stream Of Consciousness' Type And Deal With An Hour In The Life Of A Woman At The Sink.

There Are Some Things Too Dreadful To Be Revealed, And It Is Even More Dreadful How, In Spite Of Our Better Instincts,we Long To Know About Them.

The Small Things Of Life Were Often So Much Bigger Than The Great Things . . . The Trivial Pleasure Like Cooking, One's Home, Little Poems Especially Sad Ones, Solitary Walks, Funny Things Seen And Overheard.

She Set About Preparing Her Supper. It Would Have To Be One Of Those Classically Simple Meals, The Sort That French Peasants Are Said To Eat And That Enlightened English People Sometimes Enjoy Rather Self-consciously - A Crusty French Loaf, Cheese, And Lettuce And Tomatoes From The Garden. Of Course There Should Have Been Wine And A Lovingly Prepared Dressing Of Oil And Vinegar, But Dulcie Drank Orange Squash And Ate Mayonnaise That Came From A Bottle.

There Are No Sick People In North Oxford. They Are Either Dead Or Alive. It's Sometimes Difficult To Tell The Difference, That's All.