I think I had about a month off when I broke my rib in Australia, which was magnificent.

She stopped typing. If she’d been using pen and paper, she would have screwed the paper up in disgust, but there wasn’t a satisfying equivalent with e-mail, seeing as everything was designed to stop you making a mistake. She needed a fuck-it key, something that made a satisfying ka-boom noise when you thumped it.

I don’t want to change anything, because I don’t know how to deal with change. I’m used to the way I am.

But wealth is a great means of refinement; and it is a security for gentleness, since it removes disturbing anxieties.

Written By Donald G. Mitchell

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