... People Miss A Great Deal By

After The Desperate Years Of Their Own War, After Six Years Of Repression Inside Spain And Six Years Of Horror In Exile, These People Remain Intact In Spirit. They Are Armed With A Transcendent Faith; They Have Never Won, And Yet They Have Never Accepted Defeat.

In The Last Camp They All Ate Grass, Until The Authorities Forbade Them To Pull It Up. They Were Accustomed To Having The Fruits Of Their Little Communal Gardens Stolen By The Guards, After They Had Done All The Work; But At The Last Camp Everything Was Stolen.

It Is Charming The Way Everyone In The South Says, 'come Back.' This Is The Regulation Farewell At Gas Stations, Soda Fountains, General Stores, Tourist Camps. 'come Back,' They Call, 'come Back.' Do They Feel Marooned In One Place, Lost, Needing To Believe Someone Will Return To Share Their Exile On The Similar Main Streets, In The Varied But Always New-looking Land?

The English Are Very Proud Of Their Parliament, And Week In, Week Out, Century After Century, They Have Pretty Good Cause To Be.

Life Is Not Long At All, Never Long Enough, But Days Are Very Long Indeed.