Klikk på en bok for å legge inn et sitat.
To change the trend of his thoughts, he began a course of emollient reading; tried to cool his brain with some of the solanaceae of literature; read those books that are so charmingly adepted for convalescents and invalids, whom more tetanic or phosphatic works would only fatigue: the novels of Charles Dickens.
But the Englishman's works produced the opposite effect from what he had expected: his chaste lovers and his puritanical heroines in their all-concealing draperies, sharing ethereal passions and just fluttering their eyelashes, blushing coyly, weeping for joy and holding hands, drove him to distraction.
....tired of artificial flowers aping real ones, he wanted some natural flowers that would look like fakes.
Travel, indeed, struck him as being a waste of time, since he believed that the imagination could provide a more-than-adequate substitute for the vulgar reality of actual experience.