Richard Llewellyn Quote
All the way over the mountain, slag heaps were like the backs of buried animals rising as from the Pit. Living trees were buried in them, and in some, gorse was growing with its lamps alight, and grass was trying to be green wherever the wind would let it rest in peace. Will there be any of the Valley left free of slag? I said to my father.
Richard Llewellyn
All the way over the mountain, slag heaps were like the backs of buried animals rising as from the Pit. Living trees were buried in them, and in some, gorse was growing with its lamps alight, and grass was trying to be green wherever the wind would let it rest in peace. Will there be any of the Valley left free of slag? I said to my father.
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About Richard Llewellyn
Richard Dafydd Vivian Llewellyn Lloyd (né Richard Herbert Vivian Lloyd; 8 December 1906, London – 30 November 1983, Dublin), known by his pen name Richard Llewellyn ( loo-EL-in, Welsh: [ɬəˈwɛlɪn]), was a British novelist of a Welsh background, who is best remembered for his 1939 novel How Green Was My Valley, which chronicles life in a coal mining village in the South Wales Valleys.