“It was
the time between the lights when colours undergo their intensification
and purples and golds burn in window-panes like the
beat of an excitable heart; when for some reason the beauty of
the world revealed and yet soon to perish (here I pushed into
the garden, for, unwisely, the door was left open and no
beadles seemed about), the beauty of the world which is so
soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish,
cutting the heart asunder.”
―
Virginia Woolf,
A Room of One’s Own