"Prettier musings of high-wrought love and eternal constancy could never have passed along the streets of Bath than Anne was sporting with from Camden Place to Westgate Buildings. It was almost enough to spread purification and perfume all the way."
I have been reading this book again. And again. And again. I picked it up yesterday, thinking I would love to read it again. It follows me everywhere. I leave it behind, not bothering to remember the page I stopped at. I pick it up 2 hours later and open it at random. Start reading anyway.
It doesn't really matter, I know it by heart.
And you know what: it's not just the romance. It's the english. It feels like a dance in my brain. Like a beautiful movement of the brain and the understanding and the sounds together.
Listen to this : "Prettier musings (...) than Anne was sporting with..." Oh, the joy of deciphering, comprehending, adapting!