To Have A Grievance Is

English Bohemianism Is A Curiously Unluscious Fruit. ... Inside This Hothouse, Huge Lascivious Orchids Slide Sensuously Up The Sweating Windows, Passion-flowers Cross-pollinate In Wild Heliotrope Abandon, Lotuses Writhe With Poppies In The Sweet Warm Beds, Kumquats Ripen, Open And Plop Flatly To The Floor-and Outside, In A Neat, Trimly-hoed Kitchen-garden, English Bohemians Sit In Cold Orderly Rows, Like Carrots.

Disneyworld... Is A Historical Reconstruction As Sanitised As The Kremlin's, And A Future Vision As Uncognisant Of Contemporary Pointers As Peter Pan's. It Is A Magic Carpet Under Which Everything Has Been Swept.

The Word "souvenir" Has, Of Course, Slightly Extended Itself In Meaning Until It Now Denotes Almost Anything Either Breakable Or Useless; But Even Today, Ninety Per Cent Of The Items Covered By The Word Are Forgettable Objects In Which Cigarettes Can Be Left To Go Stale.

I Sometimes Wonder If The Manufacturers Of Foolproof Items Keep A Fool Or Two On Their Payroll To Test Things.

In The Days When The Keepers Of The House Shall Tremble, And The Strong Men Shall Bow Themselves, And The Grinders Cease Because They Are Few, And Those That Look Out Of The Windows Be Darkened, I Know One Boy Who Won't Be Sweating. I Intend To Raise My Coffin-lid Briskly, Throw A Few Things Into An Overnight Bag, And, Whistling Something Appropriate, Prepare To Meet My Maker.