The man who insists on seeing with perfect clearness before he decides, never decides.
Above the Dock Above the quiet dock in midnight, Tangled in the tall mast's corded height, Hangs the moon. What…
Batsman (having just been clean bowled): That was one hell of a ball, Fred. Fred Trueman: Ay, it were wasted…
Those Winter Sundays Sundays too my father got up early and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold, then…