If I ever saw my muse she would be an old woman with a tight bun and spectacles poking me in the middle of the back and growling, "Wake up and write the book!
Writing, Muse
If she's a flapper," mused the sergeant, wiping Passionate Rouge lipstick off his blameless mouth, "then I'm all for 'em, and I don't care what Mum says.
Humour
Ice cream was reliable. Young men were not.
Relationships, Humour
I hate clocks. They tick. Other things make noises in their time and need, but clocks mechanically beat the seconds to death.
Time
First, a bath. I'm feeling soiled. Too much contact with cold reality, I think.
Reality
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