It’s Bacchus, please. Or Mr. Bacchus. Or Lord Bacchus. Or, sometimes, Oh-My-Gods-Please-Don’t-Kill-Me, Lord Bacchus.

I speculate over some of the Anglo nomenclature of birds: Wilson’s snipe, Forster’s tern . . . : What natural images do these names conjure up in our minds? What integrity do we give back...

Do you really want to know where we come from?” she said. “In every century, in every country, they’ll call us something different. They’ll say we’re ghosts, angels, demons, elemental spirits, and giving us a...

She is a famous artists’ model who claims to have been christened Topaz – even if this is true there is no law to make a woman stick to a name like that.

She felt as if the grave stones were whispering those names to her as she walked past… Those stones that bore no names seemed like closed mouths, sad mouths that forgotten how to speak. But...

I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I’ve never been able to believe it. I don’t believe a rose WOULD be as nice if...