Only in a house where one has learnt to be lonely does one have this solicitude for things. Ones relation to them, the daily seeing or touching, begins to become love, and to lay one open to pain. – Elizabeth Bowen
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Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day. – Elizabeth Bowen
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Never to lie is to have no lock on your door, you are never wholly alone. – Elizabeth Bowen
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