Many an article that I myself penned twenty years ago impresses me now as something quite foreign to myself.

My table is now brightly, now dimly lighted. Its temperature varies. It may receive an ink stain. One of its legs may be broken. It may be repaired, polished, and replaced part by part. But, for me, it remains the table at which I daily write.

I haven't been with Vin for many years - is it 2004 now?

There were so many individual styles thirty or forty years ago.

Many years ago, I really didn't know where the next work was coming from.

The Foxhall jaw has now been missing for many years.