Another song by Leonard Cohen, Anthem, is one that I would like played at my own funeral, rather than Hallelujah (Editorial, 1 July). Cohen died in November 2016, just before Trump was elected. Since then, the words of the chorus have sustained me through the darkest days of our recent history: “Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
• Many years ago we accompanied the late, great Michael Foot to Glyndebourne for an opera by his beloved Rossini. As he sat enjoying a glass of champagne in the interval, a passing toff expressed surprise at seeing him there. “Nothing,” retorted Michael, “is too good for the workers” (Letters, 1 July).
• Given the incidence of photo-finishes, last-fence-fallers, penalty shootouts etc, conducting blood pressure tests in betting shops (Report, 1 July) should yield some impressive but predictable results: rather like hooking Boris Johnson up to a polygraph during PMQs.
• “Also in attendance, in the royal box, will be an ancestor of Lesley Godfrey, who hit the first ball on Centre Court” (More than 1,500 refugees invited to Wimbledon for centenary event, 1 July). Where on earth did they dig them up from?
• Thanks for Lev Parikian’s exquisite glimpse into an alien, avian world (Country, diary, 2 July) and its brilliant play on words: “Not so much deja vu as nightjar vu”.
Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire
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