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Pippa Bailey is the New Statesman’s chief sub-editor.
I am coming to accept that not everything can be explained away – that closure might not exist for the person left behind.
It is cruel that during a break-up, usual comforts are taken from you – including the person you would normally reach for in an emotional crisis
Forty-eight hours after my break-up, friends ask how I can write about it so soon. How can I not?
With restrictions lifted I returned to the British Museum to see the rich objects found at the Anglo-Saxon burial of Sutton Hoo.
Must we see something of ourselves in animals – read our emotions into their behaviour, attribute to them a level of human-like intelligence – to value them?
Whether it's Ulster, Exeter, Ireland or England – I was finally liberated from arranging weekends around rugby fixtures.
After a year of longing for a return to “normality”, I find I don’t want it after all – at least, not this part of it.
Should dictionaries include sexist words and definitions?
As I gaze at jar after jar of pickled vegetables, I become entranced by the romanticised life of American homesteaders.
Making something from nothing this lockdown has soothed everything, except my bank balance.