Saturday, 9 August 2014

Monday 24th March 1941

A curious seaside feeling in the air today. It reminds me of lodgings on a parade at Easter. Everyone leaning against the wind, nipped and silenced.
All pulp removed.
This windy corner. And Nessa is at Brighton, and I am imagining how it would be if we could infuse souls.
Octavia's story. Could I englobe it somehow? English youth in 1900.
L. is doing the rhododendrons . . .

Virginia Woolf

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