Instead of shaking all over, I read the newspapers. I listened to the radio. I had my lunch
Colm Tóibín: ‘It’s curable,’ he said, 18 April 2019
“... low, cross-court strokes – rather than hitting big winners. In literature, blood clots were Christopher Marlowe, violent, restless, brilliant, while the cancer would be Shakespeare, coming in many guises, dependable, sly, fully memorable. In painting, the blood clots would be Jackson Pollock, the cancer Barnett Newman. In Tory politics, Boris ... ”