"A love affair is a grafting operation. "What has once been joined never forgets". There is a moment when the graft takes; up to then it is possible … - Cyril Connolly

When I write after dark the shades of evening scatter their purple through my prose.

To this period [age seven] I trace my worst faults. Indecision, for I found that by hesitating for a long time over two toys in a shop I would be given both and so was tempted to make two alternatives always seem equally attractive; Ingratitude, for I grew so used to having what I wanted that I assumed it as a right; Laziness, for sloth is the especial vice of tyrants; the Impatience with boredom that is generated by devotion; the Cruelty which comes from a knowledge of power and the Giving way to moods, for I learnt that sulking, crying, moping and malingering were bluffs that paid.

Part III: La Clé des Chants (p. 93)