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“... begins her adventures not in obscurity, like Cleland’s Fanny Hill, but, like Fielding’s Tom Jones, as the foundling adoptive child of aristocratic parents in a paradisal country house. Seduced by her foster-father Lord Bellars, Fanny takes, like Tom, to the road, whereupon she falls in with witches and is ...”

“... in the autumn of 1799 with the Hutchinson sisters – Mary, Sara and Joanna – at their brother Tom’s Yorkshire farm. Coleridge laid himself out to charm them and succeeded. The middle sister, Sara, whom he would call Asra, to set her apart from his own wife Sara, became his prime female figure of worship and consolation. Mary was to have a long and ...”

“... right too, making allowance for a little professional jealousy on young Robert’s part. Even Tom Poole, that sweet young man who lived with his mother and had a steady job in his father’s business, distrusted the Wordsworths. True, Tom had a bit of a gay crush on Sam and wanted to keep him to himself, but he was a ...”

“... had already been identified and was beginning to be exploited. In 1904, B(ertha) M(uzzy) Bower began serialising her ‘Chip of the Flying U’ series in Street & Smith’s Popular Magazine. In 1907, Clarence E. Mulford began a magazine series loosely chronicling the ‘Bar-20 Crew’, prominent among whom was the cow-puncher Hopalong ...”

“... were Reginald and Clovis (not a name, as Samuel Goldwyn would have said, to be given to every Tom, Dick and Harry). Reginald believed that the religious system which had given us green Chartreuse would never really die. Here he is, showing off to a duchess at the Carlton: ‘There may have been disillusionments in the lives of the medieval saints, but ...”

“... for the first 64 years of my life) the whole ground and air-space is one nest and garden, bower and biosphere, for myriads of flowers and birds. Usually you would go out of your way to avoid stepping on a primrose. Here their buttery constellations star the ground so thickly that they are almost unavoidable. And butter-worts in the damper places, with ...”

“... been proposed as a device (as well as a tale worth the telling) to buy time for another poet, for Tom Pickard perhaps. Ackroyd, coming from a more catholic (and Catholic) camp, is less fierce, less implicated, in his treatment. His Blake is decently crafted fiction overwhelmed by an excess of tyrannical facts. Looking back over my notes, I wasn’t ...”