Tag Archives: Prague Spring
Young girls picked them, every one
For the last few days I’ve been wondering what I can do, if anything, to make things better in this mad, mad, post-truth, us-and-them world. And I think I have a solution. That’s quite a claim to make, I know. … Continue reading
“Nothing is perfect. There are lumps in it”
I was going to use the first bit of that quotation: “Finality is death. Perfection is finality.” but I thought it was a bit depressing. It comes from, ‘The Crock of Gold’, written in 1912 by Irish poet, novelist and … Continue reading
