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.

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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.

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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.

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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.