Or in the country theres a cockcrowing on a gate;
theres a foal galloping round a field.
The woods had vanished; the earth was a waste of
shadow. Tuesdayfollows Monday; then comes Wednesday. That is the biographic style,
and it does totack together torn bits of stuff, stuff with raw edges.
I addressed myself as one wouldspeak to a companion
with whom one is voyaging to the North Pole.
He likes the snuff of fresh air and walkingat a
brisk pace down the Strand.
That is the biographic style, and it does totack
together torn bits of stuff, stuff with raw edges. Then under the dullness someone
walks with a green light. The trees,scattered, put on order; the thick green of the
leaves thinneditself to a dancing light. She parted the curtain to look at the
night. It is notage; it is that a drop has fallen; another drop. It seems
comfortable to sink down on a sofain a corner, to look, to listen. I saw the figures
beneath the beechtrees at Elvedon.
A shell forms upon the soft soul,nacreous, shiny,
upon which sensations tap their beaks in vain.
How then, I asked, would Louis roof us all in? We
who had beenimmersed in this world became aware of another. That clawscratched; that
fang tore; I did not go. Itwas then we played dominoes; then we quarrelled about
tough mutton.
Nevertheless, life is pleasant, life is tolerable.
Woods coveredin thick green leafage lay in front of me. When the lock whitened on
her forehead she twisted it fearlesslyamong the rest. How wouldhe confine us, make
us one, with his red ink, with his very finenib? Then under the dullness someone
walks with a green light.
When the lock whitened on her forehead she twisted
it fearlesslyamong the rest.
The earth absorbs colour like a spongeslowly
drinking water.
The birth of children made it highly desirable that
he shouldaugment his income. How fast the stream flows from January to
December!
When the lock whitened on her forehead she twisted
it fearlesslyamong the rest.
I was like oneadmitted behind the scenes: like one
shown how the effects areproduced. Here, I said, we are togetherwithout
interruption.
But how describe the world seen without a self? My
boots became worna little on the left side.
I did notknow at first; then remembered Percival.