And if you have a Tudor house and old,
beautiful furniture, it is only the past perpetuated on top of you,
horrible. And if you have a perfect modern house done for you by
Poiret, it is something else perpetuated on top of you. It is all
horrible. It is all possessions, possessions, bullying you and turning
you into a generalisation. You have to be like Rodin, Michelangelo, and
leave a piece of raw rock unfinished to your figure. You must leave
your surroundings sketchy, unfinished, so that you are never contained,
never confined, never dominated from the outside.'
She stood in the street contemplating.
'And we are never to have a complete place of our own--never a home?'
she said.
'Pray God, in this world, no,' he answered.
'But there's only this world,' she objected.
He spread out his hands with a gesture of indifference.
'Meanwhile, then, we'll avoid having things of our own,' he said.
'But you've just bought a chair,' she said.
'I can tell the man I don't want it,' he replied.
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