"I’m the same as the tree, as soil. Eve and her muddy body.
What are we but earth? Earth moving at a different
velocity."
"She went for walks in the park and in the woods that joined the park, and enjoyed the solitude and mystery, kicked the brown leaves of autumn and picked the primroses of spring. But it was all like a dream; or rather, it was like the simulacrum of reality. The oak-leaves were to her were like oak-leaves seen ruffling in a mirror, she herself was a figure somebody had read about, or memories, or words."