When a writer admits that he has an affection for something which he has written, it is high time to pray for his soul. — Dornford Yates Copy Share Image
“Twice the clouds came down, to swathe Bel Air in their delicate folds of moisture for twenty-four hours. On the second occasion, the five of us walked in cloud halfway to the Col de Fer. By road, of course. The exercise acted like a cure. I never remember feeling fitter in all my life. And the music of the orchestra… — Dornford Yates Copy Share
When a writer admits that he has an affection for something which he has written, it is high time to pray for his soul. — Dornford Yates Copy Share Image
“Jenny had spent her girlhood at Nature’s knee. Birds and beasts were the only friends she had, and meadows, mountains and forests were all… — Dornford Yates Copy Share Image
