Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Like a bee, drawn by some sweetness or sharpness
"For days there hung about her, as after a dream some subtle change is felt in the person one has dreamt of, more vividly than anything she said, the sound of murmuring and, as she sat in the wicker arm-chair in the drawing-room window she wore, to Lily's eyes, an august shape; the shape of a dome."
- Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
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