‘Drawing away her eyes with a sigh from the warm lamp-lit squares of human comfort presented by these small houses, every one of which she felt to be a world of homely drama from which in her loneliness she was excluded, the girl stared down again upon the blurb and blotches of floating spray which showed like streaked marble now in their wayward outlines as the waves beneath them grew darker and darker. How would anyone know that these waves were winter waves?’
John Cowper Powys, Weymouth Sands, 1934.
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