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Ernle Bradford, writer, historian and broadcaster

‘Ulysses had known the click of light in olive branches far from Ithaca, the black beaks of the dolphins as they rose with rasping sighs alongside his boat, winds of fig and grape, and the stars big as moons on hot, still nights. He had heard the Sirens singing across the cat’s fur of an autumn sea. He had known the sand dimpled like hand-beaten copper on lonely islands, and looking down from his boat into the waters of uncharted anchorages had seen among the weed-wigged rocks the movement of strange-coloured fish…’

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