I would rather
I would rather work than to reflect upon my work.
Labels: thought
All that was left for him to believe was that he had been mistaken, and that the lucent quality that he thought he had found in her soul had existed only in his imagination. Now when he thought of her face it was with a curious half-regret that so beautiful a thing should no longer have any power to move him. Some sense of loss remained, but it was charged with self-pity for the loss of an ideal. Another man in Christopher's position would not probably have troubled himself about ideals, but Christopher, fortunately, or unfortunately for him, was not like other men.
—Edith Somerville & Violet Florence Martin
—Edith Somerville & Violet Florence Martin
Wednesday, February 14, 2024
