Books 2010

Books 2009

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Friday, 11 December 2009


Lovely poem. Reading it brings contentment in itself and with much simplicity. It tells us that happiness is better than ownership; being able to be contented is the real happiness, no matter what one ownes.
It also reminds me of something that Montaigne used to say; one just needs a library and a garden to be called a happy man. No doubt Mr Bagshaw would thoroughly approve of that too.

I love the curlew, such a haunting cry so thank you for the lovely picture. What a sad poem, but one I can relate to; maybe one day I'll find whatever it is I am seeking. I look forward to RS Thomas next week as I think I requested some of his poetry some time back.

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  • Nothing is of greater consolation to the author of a novel than the disovery of readings he had not conceived but which are then prompted by his readers. (Umberto Eco, Reflections on The Name of the Rose)
  • ... relatively few persons in London ... can afford the luxury of one or more servants. No fewer than 3,700,000 have no servants at all, and of the half million that have servants 227,000 have only one. (The Times, 6 June 1895)
  • Standing among savage scenery, the hotel offers stupendous revelations. There is a French widow in every bedroom, affording delightful prospects. (Tyrolean inn brochure, according to Gerard Hoffnung)
  • (A doctor is at an elderly relative's deathbed) "The old sawbones, eh?" he bellowed ... "Just in the nick, perhaps. Haul the old girl back by the short hairs, if you ask me. Devilish smart at his work ... Always take a fence with more confidence when I know he's out with us."
  • Too often, when a man of Monty Godkin's mental powers is plunged in thought, nothing happens at all. The machinery just whirs for a while, and that is the end of it. (P G Wodehouse, Heavy Weather)
  • ...the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his grid (Kipling, The Five nations)

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