“Roses are books, Violets are books. Everything is books. EVERYTHING IS BOOKS.”
“[S]he does not talk much, this quaint Fairy, but she looks whole histories. Her gaze is softly wistful, and often abstracted; at certain moments her spirit seems to have gone out of her on invisible wings.” Oh yeah, Oscar Wilde’s wife.
Poet D. Vinayachandran received a state funeral yesterday in West Kallada, India.
“Incidentally, I do not even remember whether I meant Sam Johnson or Ben Jonson … It is Jonson in my text, but is this a misprint? No one will ever know.” A new T. S. Eliot letter is found. (Well, new to us; it was written in 1957.)
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