“Your language is a minority government where backbenchers rise suddenly, threaten to cross the floor, and what comes from your mouth is a difficult vote.” — Adam Dickinson Copy Share Image
“To miss you is the weight of apples, fallen among the bent grasses at night, an organ whose machinery is pulp.” — Adam Dickinson Copy Share Image
“Your language is a minority government where backbenchers rise suddenly, threaten to cross the floor, and what comes from your mouth is a difficult… — Adam Dickinson Copy Share Image
