…i've Had A Bad Week."

I Hate Time. It Never Does What You Want It To.

Not For The First Time In My Life, And Certainly Not For The Last, A Self-righteous Gloom Had Edged Out All Semblance Of Logic.

Phone Calls Like Ours Only Happen When You've Spent Several Years Hurting And Being Hurt, Until Every Work You Utter Or Hear Becomes Coded And Loaded, As Complicated And Full Of Subtext As A Bleak And Brilliant Play.

Sequels Are Very Rarely A Good Idea, And In Any Case, The Success Of The Book Changed My Relationship With The Club In Some Ways.

My Friends Don't Seem To Be Friends At All But People Whose Phone Numbers I Haven't Lost.