Tag Archives: unreliable memories

Am sitting at home watching Andrew Denton’s Elders – he’s interviewing my all-time crush, Clive James.

Writer, thinker, reviewer, humanist, poet, essayist, all-round Renaissance man. He’s seventy years old and smart is so sexy.

“I do the secret thing that writers do: I do nothing … Because it might happen tomorrow.”

“The idea of being dead doesn’t bother me – just glad to have gotten
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