Now, Louth, Henry Lawson said…
Bourke is not the rip-roaring town that it was but it has charm, and ghosts of the past haunt the cemetery. There are a large number of colourful Aboriginal graves, Fred Hollows, the renowned ophthalmologist, was buried there in 1993. There are graves of early Afghan camel drivers who were instrumental in opening up the […]
Sometimes the river runs, sometimes it walks, sometimes during drought, it doesn’t move at all. It is a lazy river, has been around a few million years
In the beginning was a road. It went from Sydney, north west to Nyngan. Then, 200 km from Nyngan to Bourke, without a curve, without a dip, without a town, without a petrol station, but not without fascination. An ever-changing landscape. Then, beyond Bourke, is Back o’ Bourke, where else?(More later)
… throughout his life he waged a principled fight for those who haven’t rather than those who have.
“Chinese living in Australia are ‘a readymade fifth column for communist activities’”.
Cookie was concerned not with self-enrichment, but with the enrichment of the many.
Although she knew it was a joke it still disturbed Dorothy – this clock with only a minute hand. It hung on the wall of the café, mocking time, suspending it forever between one hour and the next. The single hand clicked round and round, pointing to the twelve sets of Roman numerals on the grey, time-faded clock face in a ludicrous journey to nowhere.
“To be a writer does not mean to preach a truth, it means to discover a truth.” Milan Kundera, Czech novelist, interview, 1985.