“Malacca is such a rest after the crowds of Japan and the noisy hurry o...” — Isabella Bird Quote

Malacca is such a rest after the crowds of Japan and the noisy hurry of China! Its endless afternoon remains unbroken except by the dreamy, colored, slow-moving Malay life which passes below the hill. There is never any hurry or noise.

The kimono, haori, and girdle, and even the long hanging sleeves, have only parallel seams, and these are only tacked or basted, as the garments, when washed, are taken to pieces, and each piece, after being very slightly stiffened, is stretched upon a board to dry.

The Malays can hardly be said to have an indigenous literature, for it is almost entirely derived from Persia, Siam, Arabia, and Java. Arabic is their sacred language.

Bugs are a great pest in Colorado. They come out of the earth, infest the wooden walls, and cannot be got rid of by any amount of cleanliness. Many careful housewives take their beds to pieces every week and put carbolic acid on them.

There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.

As young black boys in Alief, Texas, my friends and I often spent afternoons imagining ourselves scoring the game-winning touchdown at the end of the Super Bowl.

It was quite the intimidating Sunday afternoon, US Open finals day for me. Sixteen years old, the 16th seed, second major, first US Open, as an amateur, playing Chris Evert.

That back four - Lee Dixon, Steve Bould, Nigel Winterburn and myself - doesn't happen by luck. We worked hard on organisation. Morning and afternoon.