Beneath Every History, Another History.

Some Of These Things Are True And Some Of Them Lies. But They Are All Good Stories.

Suppose Within Each Book There Is Another Book, And Within Every Letter On Every Page Another Volume Constantly Unfolding; But These Volumes Take No Space On The Desk. Suppose Knowledge Could Be Reduced To A Quintessence, Held Within A Picture, A Sign, Held Within A Place Which Is No Place. Suppose The Human Skull Were To Become Capacious, Spaces Opening Inside It, Humming Chambers Like Beehives.

You Can Be Merry With The King, You Can Share A Joke With Him. But As Thomas More Used To Say, It's Like Sporting With A Tamed Lion. You Tousle Its Mane And Pull Its Ears, But All The Time You're Thinking, Those Claws, Those Claws, Those Claws.

Imagine The Consequences Of Having The First Woman Prime Minister Who Is The Milk Snatcher. [margaret Thatcher] Takes Away The Nourishment Of The Nation.

If You Are Without Impulses, You Are, To A Degree, Without Joy..." 469