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1 " I think it was Milosz, the Polish poet, who when he lay in a doorway and watched the bullets lifting the cobbles out of the street beside him realised that most poetry is not equipped for life in a world where people actually die. But some is. "
― Ted Hughes , Winter Pollen: Occasional Prose
2 " Illusions are to the soul what atmosphere is to the earth. Roll up that tender air and the plant dies, the colour fades. The earth we walk on is a parched cinder. It is marl we tread and fiery cobbles scorch our feet. By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. ‘Tis waking that kills us. "
― Virginia Woolf , Orlando
3 " There was a steady throng of people in the market square now and a distinct buzz in the air with the sound of excited chatter alongside the clamour of heels on cobbles and the raised voices of the stallholders advertising their wares. Upon entering we bumped straight into Josie." All on your own?" Angela asked her." I've left Sooz looking round the antiques shops," Josie said, " I went in the first one with her but that was enough for me. I'm not into knick-knacks like she is. I much prefer a good book." " Something classical," I suggested." Oh yes, definitely," Josie replied, " I love the classics. I did have a look at the ones on sale in the shop." " But nothing took your fancy?" " Not really. I was fingering 'Howard's End' for a while." " I bet that brought the colour back to his cheeks," I told her, " We'll see you at the coach later on." I grabbed Angela's arm and we walked off before Josie could ask what I meant. "
