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Septimus Rosa Chalier
Participant
- Type: FiNe
- Development: l---
- Attitude: Unseelie
But it is a mistake, this extreme precision, this orderly and military progress; a convenience, a lie. There is always deep below it, even when we arrive punctually at the appointed time with our white waistcoats and polite formalities, a rushing stream of broken dreams, nursery rhymes, street cries, half-finished sentences and sights – elm trees, willow trees, gardeners sweeping, women writing – that rise and sink even as we hand a lady down to dinner. While one straightens the fork so precisely on the table-cloth, a thousand faces mop and mow.
Virginia Woolf –Â The Waves
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This reply was modified 1 year, 11 months ago by
Septimus Rosa Chalier.
January 26, 2019 at 8:53 pm
#7569