[Brian Allgar]

When I was young, I had a certain gift for writing sentences. I remember the day when, with great pride, I finished an entire paragraph.

[Lance Levens]

Buck up, lads, and stop all your whining. Write it in numbers then muck it up a bit.

[John Whitworth]

You got it, Lance

Oxford by James Joyce

Golden buildings caught by sunshine choral music sung in chapels autumn sunshine softly falling punting down the ancient river softly falling winter evenings college windows hurrying scholars gin and tonic at the boathouse lengthening shadows down the gardens ancient buildings softly falling golden scholars autumn shadows sunshine punting down the chapels college choral gin and boathouse golden apples calling meadows haunting moonshine lengthening fellows random knowledge hung in gardens summer madhouse glinting bindings fluttering pedals whispering swallows river shallows gin and gardens hunters ardent weeping fellows drifting whispers dreaming murder winter windows shadow music sung in softly building gardens tonic choral lengthening scholars wailing willows solemn chapels winding softly ailing scholars ancient molars river music classic columns dreaming madhouse pattering shadows boathouse tonic golden money stolen kisses crumpled pillows broken bindings tangled naked sunshine children ancient passions drowning river falling cardhouse chanting scholars hunting moonman random staircase choral starshine deftly building singing candles roaring dimly scudding rainclouds hurrying figures golden children weeping mirrors thisyear nextyear sometime notime nevernever nevernever

.

[basil ransome-davies]

Joyce with some help from Longfellow?

[Brian Allgar]

Gin and tonic? Blimey, John, when I was at Oxford, it was half-a-pint at the Turf, if my grant hadn't already run out.

But there are some nice images in there.

[John Whitworth]

It's the Dons are drinking gin and tonic.

[John Whitworth]

Yup! As you see, Bazza.

[Peter Goulding]

Aylesbury by Poe

To travel, one says, is to hope. Yet here I must warn the optimistic traveller very strongly against carrying phials of poison or coma-inducing drugs on his person when entering the county town of Aylesbury, for so dismal is the architecture and so depressingly mundane are the monstrous monoliths that have sprung up around the few crumbling vestiges of the old town, that one would be tempted to reach for any available solace to stem the increasing sense of helpless melancholia that sweeps over one on entering this forlorn place.
Indeed, so oppressive are the vacant eye-like windows of the Civic Offices that gaze down desolately upon the weary visitor as the gloom of the evening falls like a suffocating blanket, that one involuntarily shudders and draws one’s collar tight around one’s neck to ward off the ghastly and insufferable spirits that one imagines to be roaming the sunless streets.

[Brian Allgar]

Relations with my Aunt Agatha and the weather in London both being decidedly chilly, it seemed judicious for Bertram to absent himself from the teeming metropolis for a spell, and I consulted Jeeves as to where I might best soak up a spot of sunshine. “I believe the Greek Islands are remarkably clement at this time of year, sir”.

So I toddled off to Mykonos, which struck me as rather a cheery spot, although I had difficulty finding a decent whisky and soda. The first bartender I tried gave me an uncomprehending stare, and suggested a glass of something he called “ooze”. I naturally declined, we Woosters being anything but primeval.

The people were very friendly, though I was surprised by the number of coves who went about holding hands. But I’m pretty easygoing, and I simply put it down to their having the misfortune to be foreign blighters.