Something of this -- some whiff of huts and damp and the swamplands of my childhood -- came to me at Christmas, in the Wiltshire valley, in Pitton's improved agricultural cottage. He was poor. I discovered now that his nerves were rawer than those of the Phillipses or Bray. He was much more vulnerable than they were.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The Enigma Of Arrival - pg. 227
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment