It’s easy to think of Christina Rossetti (1830–1894) as a caricature of her own extremes: morbid and (as other of her poems we have run in the Sun suggest) maybe a little hysterical, certainly strange ...
America’s TV-obsessed President has made his rambling Oval Office press gaggles the signature of his second term—chaotic, self-aggrandizing, random, and frequently nasty.
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