“Alas!” said Hiya, “the sentiments which this person expressed with irreproachable honourableness when the sun was high in the heavens and the probability of secretly leaving an undoubtedly well-appointed home was engagingly remote, seem to have an entirely different significance when recalled by night in a damp orchard, and on the eve of their fulfilment.”
I have occasionally been accused of having a messy office. In this photo of the the late William F Buckley in his office, I take some comfort that I am not wholly alone.