“Australia! Australians! Surely it's still full of Magwitch-types, lumbering oafs with shaven pates and broken noses on the run from whatever law there is, chucking kangaroo heads on the barbie as they read their awful bush poetry.”
“You mustn't judge Australia by the Australians.”
“People who read poetry have heard about the burning bush, but when you write poetry, you sit inside the burning bush.”
“Yes, and I’m sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people.”
“We don't read and write poetry because its cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is full of passion.”
“Nearly 30 years since his only tour of Australia, mention of Tavaré still occasions winces and groans. Despite its continental lilt, his name translates into Australian as a very British brand of obduracy, that Trevor Baileyesque quality of making every ditch a last one.”