Hard to resist. A nursery rhyme writes itself. "There were two pigeons sat on a roof..."
An elderly woman enjoying her Sauvignon Blanc in the pub says, "I have never known any man except my husband," and then apologises as though the world had been robbed of her favours.
A novel called HHhH about the events leading up to the assassination of Reinhardt Heydrich by two Czech parachutists dropped over Prague during World War 2 1942, refers to the members of the Resistance who helped them. "No reader would remember the list of names," writes the author, Laurent Binet,"so why provide it?" In order for it to remain in the memory," he concludes, it is first necessary to transform it into literature." A good reason for literature, I think to myself.