When the past is recaptured by the imagination, breath is put back into life.
When the past is recaptured by the imagination, breath is put back into life.
“Meanwhile the shadows lengthened on the beach; the blackness deepened. The iron black boot became a pool of deep blue. The rocks lost their hardness. The water that stood round the old boat was dark as if mussels had been steeped in it. The foam had turned livid and left here and there a white gleam of pearl on the misty sand.”
Virginia Woolf | The Waves