I Ought To Warn You That My

History Must Not Be Written With Bias, And Both Sides Must Be Given, Even If There Is Only One Side.

What The Londoner Sees In His Mind's Eye Is That Cluster Of Towers And Pinnacles Seen From Pentonville Hill And Outlined Against A Foggy Sunset, And The Great Arc Of Barlow's Train Shed Gaping To Devour Incoming Engines, And The Sudden Burst Of Exuberant Gothic Of The Hotel Seen From Gloomy Judd Street.

One Mark Of Good Verse Is Surprise

Lovers Of Norfolk Churches Can Never Agree Which Is The Best And I Think One Is Either A Salle Or A Cawston Man.

I Don't Think I Am Any Good. If I Thought I Was Any Good, I Wouldn't Be.