On out deathbeds we're not going to regret all the work we didn't do. We're going to regret all the sex we didn't have!

And now, dear Lord, I cannot wait Because I have a luncheon date.

Ludlow....is probably the loveliest town in England with its hill of Georgian houses ascending from the river Teme to the great tower of the cross-shaped church, rising behind a classic market building.

One mark of good verse is surprise

On out deathbeds we're not going to regret all the work we didn't do. We're going to regret all the sex we didn't have!

What the Londoner sees in his mind's eye is that cluster of towers and pinnacles seen from Pentonville Hill and outlined against a foggy sunset, and the great arc of Barlow's train shed gaping to devour incoming engines, and the sudden burst of exuberant Gothic of the hotel seen from gloomy Judd Street.

Imprisoned in a cage of sound, even the trivial seems profound