At this stage it would be more in my line to use it for a lamp in front of my art.

I assumed for years that the chip butty was only a joke. Later I learned that in our own cuisine there lurks the potato crisp sandwich.

And Bluesky tried to lure me into treacherous waters:

I came away with soap (or soaps, as they say these days), some sort of essence-of-seaweed bath foam, and this essential.

We are, without a shadow of doubt, in for interesting times.

Young Tom O'Higgins TD came within a whisker of it on his first outing.

#Áras25

"Compulsory education had produced millions of semi-literates, who were partial to 'a good read'."

Flann O'Brien pictured in the Palace Bar in Fleet Street, Dublin, Ireland, around 1945.

Or was it Myles na gCopaleen then? Or maybe Myles na Gopaleen, Lord have mercy on him? Or Brian O'Nolan.

In Frank McNally's Irishman's Diary in today's Irish Times.

The final poem printed in Thomas Hardy's last collection 'Winter Words' (1928).

"He resolves to say no more".

The elderly Thomas Hardy in 1924 awaiting the return from hospital in London of the second Mrs Hardy.

Whangs is a surprise, even a hundred years on.

'Nobody Comes'