the structure of everything that lives

how long did you think you were in there?

the rhythm of the dividing pair

a confirmation of something on the printed page to which one returns, fortified and satisfied

if you look from a mountain-top down

yet even in the moment of discovery

from the worst possible direction for landing at the lighthouse

life, from being made up of little separate incidents which one lived one by one

the question being one of the relation of masses, of light and shadows

the house would become so shabby that something must be done

one could not say what one meant

his own house, full of comfort

in the chambers of the mind and heart of the woman

the symbolical outline which transcended the real figures

for he had slipped into his glass at lunch a few drops of something

wake up and find the sun shining and the birds singing

subduing all her impressions as a woman

she was tyrannical, domineering, masterful

she knew the end of that story

she must escape somehow, be alone somewhere