The agonies of compulsive efficiency. 

The inevitable tragedy of being hardwired far too skilfully to concede time to rust over 

these matters that with ourselves we too much discuss, too much explain. 

The absolute fatality of being the Sensible one, 

of blowing one’s nose and distress into (nothing but) 

a clean handkerchief and 

walking on in sober black pumps: 

none but the brisk tight-lipped ones know.