I find friendship to be like wine, raw when new, ripened with age, the true old man’s milk and restorative cordial.

Was he an animal, that music could move him so? He felt as if the way to the unknown nourishment he longed for were coming to light.

A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw.

My stage show is raw and unpredictable.

It’s so fucking raw it’s still got its wool on it!