Poetry Is One Of The Few Nasty

In Spite Of Really Intense Competition For The Job, I'm Still My Own Worst Enemy.

After All, What Else Is Scientific Enquiry Of Any Sort Other Than A Controlled Version Of Banging One's Head Against The Universe Until Something Gives?

Not Only Had He Lost The Only Girl He'd Ever Loved, He'd Lost Her In Duplicate, Like Some Heartbroken But Highly Efficient Civil Servant.

American-style Iced Tea Is The Perfect Drink For A Hot, Sunny Day. It's Never Really Caught On In The Uk, Probably Because The Last Time We Had A Hot, Sunny Day Was Back In 1957.

At Any Given Time, Ninety-nine-point-nine-five Per Cent Of The Human Race Are A Confounded Nuisance