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Aleister Crowley Diary Entry Saturday, 13 November 1937
[I Ching hexagram] XLIX.
1.15 Paddington.
Faintly familiar face—can't place him—nods, smiles: "Going to Oxford?" I: "No, passing through station on way to lunch." I stop at bookstall. Perfect stranger accosts me: "Are you going to Oxford?" I: "No, I am not." Outside station I run into man I know: "Hullo, are you going to Oxford?" I: "Why in . . . . should I be going to Oxford?" He: "Why, we're playing them this afternoon!" The Club Secretary hadn't notified me!
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