They wrote it this week: How it felt to be a Jew facing the most evil Nazi
Extracts from diaries and letters written between February 24 and March 1
I am just come home from breakfasting with Henry Taylor to meet [the poet William] Wordsworth. Wordsworth may be bordering on sixty; hard-featured, brown, wrinkled, with prominent teeth and a few scattered grey hairs, but nevertheless not a disagreeable countenance; and very cheerful, merry, courteous, and talkative, much more so than I should have expected from the grave and didactic character of his writings. He mentioned that he never wrote down as he composed, but composed walking, riding, or in bed, and wrote down after...