Memories of the Café Budapest

A Stoic Breviary

The staff of the Café Budapest, c. 1981

I swear, I often suspect that I will not die of some horrible wasting disease, or from some sudden accident, or in a moment of passionate violence. I have this sneaking feeling, perhaps just a hope, that one day my heart will have been broken one too many times, not in body but in spirit, and Nature will tell me, …