•This week marked the 111th anniversary of the death of Oscar Wilde, and I was very much heartened to learn that although we are flat broke, the Irish Government provided funds to repair the great writer's grave.
Apparently his limestone tombstone was being eroded by the acid of lipstick kisses bestowed on his tomb by visitors. No doubt the literary giant would be tickled pink by this. He died in penury and disgrace, but it is a testimony to his enduring genius that all these years later, his headstone is in danger of being worn away by love.
What greater memorial could there be?