Much of the cobwebbery of superstition, ancient and modern, is readily brushed away by this confident and sure hand; but there are other facts, facts of Christian consciousness, which do not, from our standpoint, disappear so readily.

They are black-avised as warlocks and wear their black cowls with formality and disdain.

I’m keen on computers.

Once, in his first term, Cartwright had been bold enough to ask him why he was so clever[…] ‘It's memory, Cartwright, old dear. Memory, the mother of the Muses. . . at least that's what thingummy said.’ ‘Who?’ ‘You know, what's his name, Greek poet chap. Wrote the Theogony. . . what was he called? Begins with an “H”.’ ‘Homer?’ ‘No, dear. Not Homer, the other one. No, it's gone. Anyway. Memory, that's the key.’