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Where, I wonder, should I have been over the long years across the world without the spasmodic, always unexpected, and totally reliable friendship of companions like Donald Wise, and Ralph Izzard, and Patrick O'Donovan, and David Holden, and Louis Heren, and Sam White, and Richard Scott, and René MacColl, and Stanley Uys, and Ted Levite, and David Walker, and Tim Baistow, and Stanley Burch, and a score more of their kind, at any moment liable to appear through the swing-doors of anywhere between Tuscaloosa and Tonkin and reduce chaos to the healing anodyne of a glass and the shared misfortunes of existence.
(On journalism in "Point of Departure" page 80)
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