Thinking about the writer Tom Wolfe, who died on May 14, I searched for his name across all my e-books. Up popped some thirty-six, leaving aside Wolfe's own novels and essays, containing a total of 151 references. An interesting fact of probably no relevance, the references were apparently distributed according to some power law. (See . . .
" The love of our own country seems not to be derived from the love of mankind. The former sentiment is altogether independent of the latter, and seems sometimes even to dispose us to act inconsistently with it. France may contain, perhaps, near three times the number of inhabitants which Great Britain contains. In the great society of . . .
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