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A pair of men, usually brothers-in-law or other close kinsmen, sit facing one another on a dingy cane mat in the sandy plaza between thatched houses where women cook, gossip, nurture and laugh while children sleep or play
The larvae eat natural animal fibers: wool, silk, fur, feathers, and leather
In his superb essay, Nicotine , Gregor Hens animadverts on the origins of this oft-quoted sentiment: Ive given up smoking more than any man alive, every time I stub one out I swear its my last. Hens says its often misattributed to Mark Twain, but Id always assumed it was from Italo Svevos novel The Confessions of Zeno , which is among much else a minatory portrait of the way habit crimps the psyche