- Not to be known always wounds.
- We went from room to room, fracturing the silences.
- His heart withered in him and he has been left with the five senses, like pieces of a broken wineglass.
- Not to care about gain, that is what Alexandria recognises as madness.
- ... rocked upon the oceanic splendors of a language she would never know.
- I want to return to my farmhouse in Normandy heart-whole.
- At last she goes softly, reluctantly, circumspectly int the lighted world with a little sigh.
- ... etiolated flowers of afternoons spent in anguish, tossing upon ugly beds, bandaged by dreams.
- ... the open petal of the mouth that fell on mine like an unslaked summer.
- fragments from Justine, Lawrence Durrell