“Nothing could be slow enough, nothing lasts too long. No pleasure could equal, she thought, straightening the chairs, pushing in one book on the shelf, this having done with the triumphs of youth, lost herself in the process of living, to find it with a shock of delight, as the sun rose, as the day sank. Many a time had she gone, at Barton when they were all talking, to look at the sky; seen it between peoples shoulders at dinner; seen it in London when she could not sleep. She walked to the window.”
― from Mrs. DallowayBlog Archive
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D. H. Lawrence
from Pansies THE WHITE HORSE The youth walks up to the white horse, to put its halter on and the horse looks at him in silence. They are s...
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The Yucca Moth ++ The yucca clump is blooming, ++ tall sturdy spears spangling into bells of light, ++ green in the white blooms ++ fa...
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The Royal Gate Little Jacqueline Pascal played with Blaise re-inventing Euclid (Papa told them to). While he made up conic sections, she w...
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“Suddenly for no earthly reason I felt immensely sorry for him and longed to say something real, something with wings and a heart, but the...