Benches in Regent's Park |
But they beckoned; leaves were alive; trees
were alive. And the leaves being
connected by millions of fibres with his own body, there on the seat, fanned it
up and down; when the branch stretched he, too, made that statement. The sparrows fluttering, rising, and falling
in jagged fountains were part of the pattern; the white and blue, barred with
black branches. Sounds made harmonies
with premeditation; the spaces between them were as significant as the
sounds. A child cried. Rightly far away a horn sounded. All taken together meant the birth of a new
religion.
Mrs. Dalloway (MD 22)
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