There was no respect for youth when I was young, and now that I am old, there is no respect for age, I missed it coming and going.
J. B. PriestleyAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer, Playwright
- Nationality: british
- Born: September 13, 1894
- Died: August 14, 1984
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Mr Earbrass stands on the terrace at twilight. It is bleak; it is cold; and the virtue has gone out of everything. Words drift through his mind: anguish turnips conjunctions illness defeat string parties no parties urns desuetude disaffection claws loss Trebizond napkins shame stones distance fever Antipodes mush glaciers incoherence labels miasma amputation tides deceit mourning elsewards...
Edward Gorey