We're Not Savages. We're English.

If I Blow The Conch And They Don't Come Back; Then We've Had It. We Shan't Keep The Fire Going. We'll Be Like Animals. We'll Never Be Rescued." "if You Don't Blow, We'll Soon Be Animals Anyway.

Heaven Lies Around Us In Our Infancy.

At The Moment Of Vision, The Eyes See Nothing.

I Think There Might Even Come A Time When I Would Read Virgil Again. Ovid's Metamorphoses, Perhaps, Not Because The Music Goes Round And Round And Never Comes Out, But Because It's An Extraordinary Picture Of Ceaseless Change That Never Comes To An End.

People Don't Help Much.