It's the easiest thing in the world to write laudation; only an inexperienced grumbler would declare it was easier to find fault.

The book was Billington's "Vagaries"; pompous idiocy, of course, but he lives in a big house and gives dinners.

Well, from 10.30 to 11, I smoked a cigar and reflected, feeling that the day wasn't badly begun.

At eleven I was ready to write my Saturday causerie for the Will o' the Wisp; it took me till close upon one o'clock, which was rather too long.

I can't afford more than an hour and a half for that job.