I’m watching Harold Pinter’s Nobel Prize acceptance speech, that he reads on film being too ill to travel to Sweden.
He’s painting a horrific picture of war.
He tells a story of a child of 4 years old asking “when do i get my arms back?”, having lost them along with his family to the Americans.
Some phrases stuck in my head:
Continue reading ‘Harold Pinter’
All my friends…
… are having so much fun.
And I’m thousands of miles away :(
At least Flickr is there for me…