The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it.
Jules Renard, “Diary,” February 1895
(via victoriousvocabulary)
The story I am writing exists, written in absolutely perfect fashion, some place, in the air. All I must do is find it, and copy it.
Jules Renard, “Diary,” February 1895
(via victoriousvocabulary)