Bokelskere.no

Of course if Shelley had released Mont Blanc as a seven-inch single, then I'd be able to recite it word for word and tell you the highest chart positions, but because it's literature, and it's actually demanding, then I just don't have a clue. The sad fact is that I love Dickens and Donne and Keats and Eliot and Forster and Conrad and Fitzgerald and Kafka and Wilde and Orwell and Waugh and Marvell and Greene and Sterne and Shakespeare and Webster and Swift and Yeats and Joyce and Hardy, really, really love them. It's just that they don't love me back.