It takes less time to do things right than to explain why you did it wrong.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
It takes less time to do things right than to explain why you did it wrong.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Each month we’re posing six pub quiz style questions, with a different subject each month. As always, they’re designed to be difficult, but it is unlikely everyone will know all the answers – so have a bit of fun.
Language
Answers will be posted in 2 weeks time.
Here are the answers to this month’s six quiz questions. If in doubt, all should be able to be easily verified online.
Medicine
Answers were correct when questions were compiled in late 2024.
No Man Is An Island
John Donne
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were:
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
Find this poem online at All Poetry
This year our Ten Things column each month is alternating between composers and artists a century at a time from pre-1500 to 20th century. As always, there’s no guarantee you will have heard of them all!
Ten Artists Born Before 1500

Books can be dangerous. The best ones should be labelled “This could change your life”.
Helen Exley
Each month we’re posing six pub quiz style questions, with a different subject each month. As always, they’re designed to be difficult, but it is unlikely everyone will know all the answers – so have a bit of fun.
Medicine
Answers will be posted in 2 weeks time.
Here are the answers to this month’s six quiz questions. If in doubt, all should be able to be easily verified online.
General Knowledge (1)
Answers were correct when questions were compiled in late 2024.
Stopping by Woods On a Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Find this poem online at Poetry Foundation