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A spectacular sunset is reflected in a flooded field in Somerset Levels near the village of Moorland

Curling at St. Moritz, 1936

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The first woman to conduct the last night of the BBC Proms.

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Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,
Saying that now you are not as you were
When you had changed from the one who was all to me,
But as at first, when our day was fair.

Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then,
Standing as when I drew near to the town
Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,
Even to the original air-blue gown!

Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessness
Travelling across the wet mead to me here,
You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness,
Heard no more again far or near?

Thus I; faltering forward,
Leaves around me falling,
Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward,
And the woman calling.

(Thomas Hardy, The Voice, December 1912)

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The Civil Justice Centre, corner of Bridge Street and Gartside Street.

Opened on 24 October 2007, the Manchester Civil Justice Centre is the biggest court complex to be built in the UK since the Royal Courts of Justice were constructed in London between 1868-82.

On completion it had the largest glass wall in Europe: a 63m by 60m cavity glass wall as a façade along its western edge supported by sixty metre high triangular atrium columns all suspended from the 11-storey atrium roof.

The floors cantilever up to 15 metres from the building’s columns creating what the architect has dubbed “fingers”, a feature that gives the building some distinctive interior space.

Architects Denton Corker Marshall won Australia’s most prestigious architecture prize – the Royal Australian Institute of Architects National Awards (RAIA) Jørn Utzon Award for International Architecture for designing this building.

(Source: Skyscraper News)

venice in the snow

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Once more the cauldron of the sun
Smears the bookcase with winy red,
And here my page is, and there my bed,
And the apple-tree shadows travel along.
Soon their intangible track will be run,
And dusk grows strong
And they have fled.

Yes: now the boiling ball is gone,
And I have wasted another day …
But wasted – wasted, do I say?
Is it a waste to have imaged one
Beyond the hills there, who, anon,
My great deeds done,
Will be mine alway?

(Thomas Hardy, The Sun on the Bookcase)

Black Dogs Defined

This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved and hated, like another: my life was as the vapour and is not; but this I saw and knew; this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory.

(John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies)

Whatever people say I am, that’s what I’m not.

(Alan Sillitoe, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning)

This is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me.

(Emily Dickinson, This is my letter to the world)

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

(Edna St. Vincent Millay, Second Fig)

R.A.D. Stainforth

I was born before The Beatles’ first LP and brought up in the reeking slums of Jericho. I am in love with a woman called Hazel and in love with her daughter, also called Hazel, both of whom I met at Alcoholics Anonymous.

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