I am so at home in Dublin, more than any other city, that I feel it has always been familiar to me. It took me years to see through its soft charm to its bitter prickly kernel - which I quite like too.

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We have commemorated many events and traditions in the decade of centenaries. But no one, it seems, wishes to recall the repression by the new state of working class militancy.


If all war is an affront to humanity, there is something even more terrible about a country at war with itself. The wounds heal slowly, if ever.


As is clear from his writing on the poverty and exploitation then endemic in rural England, Blythe was a man of the left and a pacifist.


There are laws: don’t put your dung outside the door. Cattle shall not be eviscerated beside the river. Hides not to be salted in the city.