“He seemed almost to like animals. He stroked their muzzles sometimes. He was a kind man. And he gave them no promises: when the trap’s teeth snapped shut, their own light feet had triggered the spring.”
How good a thing it is to be alone, is manifested and shewn both in the Old Testament and also in the New. For in both we find that God revealed his secret counsels and his heavenly mysteries to his dear friends, not in the presence of a multitude, but when they were by themselves alone. Ancrene Wisse (13th century guide for anchoresses)
The Dour runs through it and Dover is a dour kind of place, a seaside town that makes few concessions to the popular traditions of the English seaside. It’s a practical, workaday place, leaving Kentish amusements to the likes of Margate and Broadstairs.
Highgate Cemetery opened in 1839, one of seven new cemeteries established during the early Victorian period, in what were then outer suburbs of London. Its architect, Stephen Geary, placed the astonishing Egyptian Avenue at the heart of the new cemetery.
The dull days after Christmas, with the store sales in flood tide, may not have been the most propitious time for a prophet. Commodity idols distracting the attention, hawkers and muzak assailing the ears, credit card bills gnawing at the conscience.