January 2012
29 posts
December 2011
14 posts
3 tags
4 tags
It is very cold
walking into the long scraped April wind.
At this time of year...
– Anne Carson, from “The Glass Essay” (via awritersruminations)
They were dancing,only not to music, but to the unheard rhythm of their own wild...
– Virginia Woolf,Between The Acts.
3 tags
2 tags
November 2011
29 posts
1 tag