Pandemics don’t approach like wars, with the distant thud of artillery growing louder every day and flashes of bombs on
the horizon. The arrive in retrospect, essentially. It’s disorienting. The pandemic is far away and then it’s all around
you with seemingly no intermediate step.
This week's book is Sea of Tranquility by Emily St John Mandel and we'll be meeting at Ye Olde Cocke on Wilmslow Road in Didsbury — contact us for details.
No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such
advice mean ? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure. Happiness is a glory shining far
down upon us out of Heaven. She is a divine dew which the soul, on certain of its summer mornings, feels dropping upon
it from the amaranth bloom and golden fruitage of Paradise.
This week's book is Villette by Charlotte Brontë and we'll be meeting at Ye Olde Cocke on Wilmslow Road in Didsbury — contact us for details.