I went back to my lounge chair. Alone.

And in a chair well-knownMy mother sat, and did not tireWith reading all alone.If I should make the slightest soundTo show that I'm awake,She'd rise, and lap the blankets round,My pillow softly shake;Kiss me, and turn my face to seeThe shadows on the wall,And then sing Rousseau's Dream to me,Till fast asleep I fall.

At the pinnacle of great design are products so gorgeous and lust-worthy that you want to lick them: a Porsche 911, Samsung's Luxia TV, an Eames lounge chair or anything by Loro Piana.

She's right, Kate's right, I'm right and you're wrong. If you drive her away from here it will be over my dead— chair, has it never occurred to you at on one occasion you might be consummately wrong?

As far as the filmmaking process is concerned, stars are essentially worthless - and absolutely essential.

Is it safe?