The closing lines of Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock:”
We have lingered in the chamber of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Some strange kick, drawn back into modernist poetry, the one author who belongs to both the British and the Americans.
Dashboard:
The British Prime Minster uses one. To be transparent? This is my dashboard.