"I live inside my head, often oblivious to the world outside myself. I see only what I wish to see. Everything else is obliterated by a convenient discerning device, a window inside-a window that, in an instant, will open and record the vision of a single blade of grass reflected in a raindrop, a gift to store in the recesses of my mind..."
"The small stone-floored entry hall was enormously charming just as it was, suggesting the comfort and pleasure promised within. In the center, I could picture a round hall table with a big glazed bowl filled with lovely fragrant lavender. Maybe a worn white-and-gray-blue linen rug would sit under the table, along-side a chipped, chalky, painted bench, heaped with finely woven baskets for gathering flowers, voluptuous straw bonnets, and a stack of soft cotton quilts for picnics on the grass...In my mind's eye, I could picture a big, cozy kitchen: see the sunlight filter in through the panes of the window; smell the scent of drying herbs and baking bread; taste the pear-and-almond tart prepared for afternoon tea on the heavy wooden table in front of the centuries-old stone fireplace..."