The irony of the ephemeral magical moment

Picnic in St James's with hens and hamper


“The irony of the ephemeral magical moment – such as a perfect after-noon, we wish would never end – is that it stays with us forever; buried amongst all the other treasures we have secreted away over the years. Sacred memories that never fade, but sparkle gently & eternally like rose-cut diamonds in the mine of our past.
Now the glamour of my Proustian cork-lined room lifestyle has palled, I live on memories such as these. The sparkling eternity of my salad days.” Tyne O’Connell

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Published on August 26, 2015 09:18
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