Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refugees of a long war.
“I need them, need them to give me a kick up the arse. Otherwise I'd just be sat-in getting fat, counting me money. It's good people living on your doorstep and looking through your bins. Gives you energy.”
“If our countries had war the one with the other, that was no cause that he should put us to death; with which they were out of heart that their cruel pretense failed them. For which God be forever-more praised.”