'And James, it's not far from the Liguanea Club and you can go there and play bridge, and golf when you get better. There'll be plenty of people for you to talk to. And then of course I can cook and sew buttons for you and so on.'And thus concludes "James Bond Daily." We now return to your regularly scheduled Antick Musings, already in progress.
Of all the doom-fraught graffiti a woman can write on the wall, those are the most insidious, the most deadly.
James Bond, in the full possession of his senses, with his eyes wide open, his feet flat on the linoleum floor, stuck his head blithely between the mink-lined jaws of the trap. He said, and meant it, 'Goodnight, You're an angel.'
At the same time, he knew, deep down, that love from Mary Goodnight, or from any woman, was not enough for him. It would be like taking 'a room with a view'. For James Bond, the same view would always pall.
Listening to: Kate Tucker & The Sons Of Sweden - In The End