When Shall We Live If

Central Heating, French Rubber Goods And Cookbooks Are Three Amazing Proofs Of Man's Ingenuity In Transforming Necessity Into Art, And, Of These, Cookbooks Are Perhaps Most Lastingly Delightful.

I Notice That As I Get Rid Of The Protective Covering Of The Middle Years, I Am More Openly Amused And Incautious And Less Careful Socially, And That All This Makes For Increasingly Pleasant Contacts With The World.

I Wrote From The Time I Was Four. It Was My Way Of Screaming And Yelling, The Primal Scream. I Wrote Like A Junkie, I Had To Have My Daily Fix.

... Most Bereaved Souls Crave Nourishment More Tangible Than Prayers: They Want A Steak. What Is More, They Need A Steak. Preferably They Need It Rare, Grilled, Heavily Salted, For That Way It Is Most Easily Digested, And Most Quickly Turned Into The Glandular Whip Their Tired Adrenals Cry For.

I Can No More Think Of My Own Life Without Thinking Of Wine And Wines And Where They Grew For Me And Why I Drank Them When I Did And Why I Picked The Grapes And Where I Opened The Oldest Procurable Bottles, And All That, Than I Can Remember Living Before I Breathed.