:29:02
"You know you would, and so would I."
:29:09
"I was entranced and moved
by your portrait of your father."
:29:13
"I write nonsense."
:29:15
"If you write again, you shall
have an essay on what you will."
:29:19
"Yours to command, in some things."
:29:21
- "I was born...
- Christabel LaMotte.
:29:24
...in a small place too."
Not like this, not bare.
:29:29
A brilliant, dusty hutch of mysteries.
A cabinet of curiosities.
:29:35
What did my eyes first light on?
:29:38
I am a creature of my pen.
My pen is the best part of me.
:29:44
I send you now two more poems.
:29:46
I read your mythic tales of Maia and
found them both charming and sad.
:29:53
Your verse is rich
but the metaphor is richer.
:29:56
Dear Mr. Ash: I live circumscribed
and self-communing.
:30:01
It is best so.
:30:03
Not like a princess in a thicket.
More like a spider in her web.
:30:07
"Inclined to snap at visitors
or trespassers...
:30:11
...not perceiving the distinction until
too late. Thus it is unwise to call."
:30:17
I know you live very quietly
but I could be very quiet.
:30:21
I only want to discuss Dante.
Shakespeare.
:30:24
Wordsworth. Coleridge. Goethe.
:30:27
Not forgetting, of course, Christabel
LaMotte and the ambitious fairy project.
:30:48
Sir, things flicker and shift
all spangle and sparkle and flashes.
:30:55
I have sat all this long evening by my
fireside, turning towards a caving in...