'I love New York on summer afternoons when everyone's away. There's something very sensuous about it - over-ripe, as if all sorts of funny fruits were going to fall into your hands.'
Chapter 7, The Great Gatsby, (1926).
I love the picture that these words paint. It's very aromatic, maybe of dense bakery smells falling on empty streets where the dusk shadows glide heavily and orange. Intriguing isn't it?
They say a picture paints a thousand words. Perhaps a handful of words can fill an Art Gallery, one painting at a time. How lovely to wander & look...
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