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'Things that are unpleasant to hear: Someone who has an ugly voice yet speaks and laughs without restraint...Someone who speaks while her teeth are being blackened.' [It was fashionable to blacken teeth daily with rust dissolved in vinegar and mixed with gallnut powder--yikes!]

'Distractions at boring times: Proses romances.' Over a thousand years later here we are reading Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer. Sei Shonagon would probably have liked both!

As the men from the Office of the Grounds walk along, they hold their long pine torches high above them; because of the cold their heads are drawn into their robes, and consequently the ends of the torches are always threatening to bump into things.

The Chancellor, Michitaka...arrived at Smaller Shirakawa. Over a thin silk robe of dark orange he wore a dazzling white one of glossy silk; his Court clock was lined with violet and his laced trousers were the same colour, while his trouser-skirt was of deep red material....as I looked at the men gathered there with their fans, I had the impression that I was seeing a field of pinks in full bloom.

A preacher ought to be good-looking. For if we are to properly understand his worthy sentiments we must keep our eyes on him while he speaks...Accordingly an ugly preacher may well be the source of sin. But I really must stop writing this kind of thing. If I were still young enough I might risk the consequence of putting down such impieties, but at my present stage of life I should be less flippant.

Hateful Things: A man with whom one is having an affair keeps singing the praises of some woman he used to know. Even if it is a thing of the past, this can be very annoying. How much more so if he is still seeing the woman! (Yet sometimes I find that it is not as unpleasant as all that.)

Hateful Things: ...An elderly person warm the palms of his hands over a brazier and stretches out the wrinkles. No young man would dream of behaving in such a fashion; old people can really be quite shameless. I have seen some dreary old creatures actually resting their feet on the brazier and rubbing them against the edge while they speak.

This is the diary of a lady of the court in 11th century Japan. It reads like a sort of prose poem spiced with court gossip. 'In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps of purplish cloud trail over them. In summer the nights. Not only when the moon shines, but on dark nights too, as the fireflies flit to and fro....'