I love this place; I love mountains and big skies and forests. And the weather is still supremely beautiful even though the lower peaks are powdered with fresh snow. But Heavens! What sun. It never has an ending. I am basking at this minute - half past four - too hot without a hat,
Katherine MansfieldOh,' said the little girl, 'my head's on your heart; I can hear it going. What a big heart you've got, father dear.
Katherine Mansfield... I find in all the works of the greatest writers, especially in their unedited letters, some touch, some sign of myself - some resemblance, some part of myself, like a thousand reflections of my own hands in a dark mirror.
Katherine Mansfield... always with that magical child air about her, that delightful sense of perpetually attending a party.
Katherine MansfieldBut, my darling, if you love me,' thought Miss Meadows, 'I don't mind how much it is. Love me as little as you like.
Katherine MansfieldI'm a writer first and a woman after.
Katherine MansfieldTo be alive and to be a ‘writer’ is enough.
Katherine MansfieldDon’t you think the stairs are a good place for reading letters? I do. One is somehow suspended. One is on neutral ground - not in one’s own world nor in a strange one. They are an almost perfect meeting place. Oh Heavens! How stairs do fascinate me when I think of it. Waiting for people - sitting on strange stairs - hearing steps far above, watching the light playing by itself - hearing - far below a door, looking down into a kind of dim brightness, watching someone come up. But I could go on forever. Must put them in a story though! People come out of themselves on stairs - they issue forth, unprotected.
Katherine MansfieldThe truth is that every true admirer of the novels cherishes the happy thought that he alone - reading between the lines - has become the secret friend of their author.
Katherine MansfieldStichwörter: reading
The most thrilling day of the year, the first real day of Spring had enclosed its warm delicious beauty even to London eyes. It had put a spangle in every colour and a new tone in every voice, and city folks walked as though they carried real bodies under their clothes with real live hearts pumping the still blood through.
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