Emerenc non aveva studiato Eraclito, ma conosceva la sua filosofia meglio di me, che ritornavo, appena possibile, nella città dov'ero nata alla ricerca di cose irreparabilmente scomparse - l'ombra degli edifici che un tempo si stendeva sul mio viso, la mia vecchia casa perduta - e naturalmente non trovavo nulla perché chissà dove scorreva in quel momento l'acqua del fiume che trascina i cocci della mia vita. Emerenc era troppo saggia per tentare imprese impossibili, dedicava le energie a ciò che era ancora possibile realizzare nel futuro per il proprio passato, ma naturalmente mi occorse troppo tempo per capirlo.

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible: World is suddener than we fancy it. World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes - On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands - There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

August 6th. Of course, the most battered, the most obstinately unhappy person couldn't hold out for ever against the all-pervading benediction of this place. I know there is just the same old wretchedness going on as usual outside it,—cruelty, people wantonly making each other miserable, love being thrown away or frightened into fits, the dreadful betrayal of trust that is the blackest wretchedness of all,—I can almost imagine that if I were to hang over my terrace-wall I would see these well-known dreary horrors crawling about in the valley below, crawling and tumbling about together in a ghastly tangle. But at least there isn't down there now my own particular contribution to the general wretchedness. I brought that up here; dragged it up with me, not because I wanted to, but because it would come. Surely, though, I shall leave it here? Surely there'll be a day when I'll be able to pack it away into a neat bundle and take it up to the top of some, arid, never-again-to-be-visited rock, and leave it there and say, 'Goodbye. I'm separate. I've cut the umbilical cord. Goodbye old misery. Now for what comes next.' I can't believe this won't happen. I can't believe I won't go back down the mountain different from what I was when I came. Lighter, anyhow, and more wholesome inside. Oh, I do so want to be wholesome inside again! Nicely aired, sunshiny; instead of all dark, and stuffed up with black memories.