“It is raining pitilessly. There is no sound but the fire talking to itself, and the dull patter of the rain; and I have the sense of isolation, of intervals of space, very strongly upon me; this little room is an ark upon the illimitable deluge; or a star in the empty heavens; you know what I mean, don’t you? These times make one feel a great hunger and yearning, and I know not what wonderful rehabilitation of the past. Large tracts of one’s memory seem lit up with a sudden burst of sunshine.”

~ Robert Louis Stevenson in a letter to Frances Sitwell, 1873


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