Like Bill Kristol, I cannot claim to have been a close friend of Christopher Hitchens, who died yesterday after battling cancer for a year and a half, but we were at least friendly acquaintances and I was long an admirer of his prose, his learning and his courage. I was always delighted when we were on the same side on an issue and listened respectfully when we weren’t. And I savor the memory of occasions on which we shared a drink or two, although I came to believe that Christopher didn’t drink quite as much as he liked others to think: how else could he have always remained so lucid and eloquent?

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