quinta-feira, 26 de agosto de 2010

But in the night, lo every bird upon the bulging screen broke into song, lo every flower upon the tattered paper budded and foamed into blossom. Yes, even the green vine upon the bed curtains wreathed itself into strange chaplets & garlands, twined round us in a leafy embrace, held us with a thousand clinging tendrils.
Leves Amores, Katherine Mansfield