Jist seein' its yon time again, here's a line or twa fae wan o' oor best poets an' writers.

If there's a sword-like sang
That can cut Scotland clear
O' a' the warld beside
Rax me the hilt o't here,

For there's nae jewel till
Frae the rest o' earth it's free,
Wi' the starry separateness
I'd fain to Scotland gie….

"Now, I am not a misogynist by any means. I simply believe there is a time and a place for everything – yes, literally, everything. And like a high proportion of my country's regular and purposive drinkers I greatly prefer a complete absence of women on occasions of libation. I also prefer a complete absence of music and very little illumination. I am therefore a strong supporter of the lower – or lowest – type of 'dive' when drinking is the principal purpose and no one wants to be distracted from that absorbing business by music, women, glaring lights, chromium fittings, too many mirrors, unless sufficiently fly-spotted and mildewed, or least of all, any fiddling trivialities of l'art noveau."

"I am a Scotsman and proud of it.
Never call me British. I'll tell you why.
It's too near brutish, having only
The difference between U and I.
Scant difference, you think? Yet
                Hell-deep and Heavenhigh!"

"The rose of all the world is not for me.
I want for my part
Only the little white rose of Scotland
That smells sharp and sweet - and breaks the heart."

And my personal favourite



"I'll ha'e nae hauf-way hoose, but aye be whaur
Extremes meet – it's the only way I ken
To dodge the curst conceit o' bein' richt
That damns the vast majority o' men."


All by Hugh MacDairmid.