[…] I cannot find words to express the intense pleasure I have always in first finding myself, after some prolonged stay in England, at the foot of the old tower of Calais church. The large neglect, the noble unsightliness of it; the record of its years written so visibly, yet without sign of weakness or decay; its stern wasteness and gloom, eaten away by the Channel winds, and overgrown with the bitter sea grasses […]

Fill all thy bones with aches.

They only served me one apple turnover for breakfast.

If I am speaking about racial equality, it is because ‘kikes are nigger-lovers’.