So Heedless Have We Become Of Our

Mother Sighed With Exasperation. "look, There Aren't Any "people In Charge Of Death". When You Die You Move To Another Part Of London, That's All There Is To It. Period.

As For Critical Writing About Modernism, Its Moments Of Lucidity Are But Fulgurations Illuminating The Dark And Incomprehensible Landscape Of Its Subject's Unabashed Difficulty.

It Might Be An Idea For All Literary Critics To Read The Books They Analyse Aloud - It Certainly Helps To Fix Them In The Mind, While Providing A Readymade Seminar With Your Audience.

To Attempt To Write Seriously Is Always, I Feel, To Fail - The Disjunction Between My Beautifully Sonorous, Accurate And Painfully Affecting Mental Content, And The Leaden, Halting Sentences On The Page Always Seems A Dreadful Falling Short.

Political Activists Of All Stripes Are Usually A Wacky Bunch, And Never More So Than In A System Like Britain's, Where Power Is Effected Via The Quiescence Of The Electorate As Much As Its Convictions.