quarta-feira, julho 05, 2006

Gatos..


"And, with her basket and her parasol, there she was again, ten minutes later, giving out a sense of being ready, of being equipped for a jaunt, which, however, she must interrupt for a moment, as they passed the tennis lawn, to ask Mr Carmichael, who was basking with his yellow cat's ajar, so that like a cat's they seemed to reflect the branches moving or the clouds passing, but to give no inkling of any inner thoughts or emotion whatsoever, if we wanted anything."

Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse


(Este doce é a Gugas, a gatinha do S, que agora é já uma feroz senhora "de idade". Prometo a mim mesma, com convicção renovada, ter um dia um gatinho meu. Especialmente depois da visita de ontem ao Azeitona e à Cafeína, os gatinhos de uma amiga.)

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anónimo said...

:).

julho 05, 2006 7:32 da tarde  

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