He looked around. The room, a few suitcases, some belongings, a handful of well-read books_ a man needed few things to live. And it was good not to get used to many things when life was unsettled. Again and again one had to abandon them or they were taken away. One should be ready to leave every day. That was the reason he had lived alone_ when one was on the move one should not have anything that could bind one. Nothing that could stir the heart. The adventure_ but nothing more.

He finished his drink. 'I don__ like mornings either,' he said. __hat__ why I__ a writer.

I don__ know any writers who don__ drink.

The food we were given was no more than eatable, but the patron was not mean about drink; he allowed us two litres of wine a day each, knowing that if a plongeur is not given two litres he will steal three.

When you paint late at night, drinking beer or wine or both, you gotta be very careful to watch what you are doing...

Never underestimate the audacity of the small minded and slightly crapulous.A rather bleezed young neighbour decided to have a grammar battle with me. It lasted all of two seconds.I said something slightly amicable, and he responded with, __ou sure that's how you use that word?__ put down my laundry basket and turned to him slowly and deliberately.__o you really want to have this discussion with me, son, or do you want to go home and rethink your life?__e grumbled and vanished.