The earth did never mean her foizon For those who crown life’s cup with poison Of fanatic rage and meaningless revenge— But for those radiant spirits, who are still The standard-bearers in the van of Change.

When you drop the tuna onto the pan, the outside will sear and cook quickly while leaving as much of the center as possible in its raw state.

[…]examining in turn, the husbandry of livestock, the consumption of domestic deadstock, and hunting in the earlier Neolithic,[…]

“Can you tell me why it is,” said Ian in an aggressive way, “every time we go into a fucking pub you go ballsing on about bleeding Lance Platt. Can you tell me that?”