World Is Crazier And More Of It

There Seeps From Heavily Jowled Or Hawk-like Foreign Faces The Guttural Sorrow Of The Refugees.

World Is Suddener Than We Fancy It.

All That I Would Like To Be Is Human, Having A Share In A Civilized, Articulate And Well-adjusted Community Where The Mind Is Given Its Due But The Body Is Not Distrusted

It's No Go The Picture Palace, It's No Go The Stadium, It's No Go The Country Cot With A Pot Of Pink Geraniums. It's No Go The Government Grants, It's No Go The Elections, Sit On Your Arse For Fifty Years And Hang Your Hat On A Pension.

I Was The Rector's Son, Born To The Anglican Order, Banned For Ever From The Candles Of The Irish Poor; The Chichesters Knelt In Marble At The End Of A Transept With Ruffs About Their Necks, Their Portion Sure.