“It was a mistake to think of houses, old houses, as being empty. They
were filled with memories, with the faded echoes of voices. Drops of
tears, drops of blood, the ring of laughter, the edge of tempers that
had ebbed and flowed between the walls, into the walls, over the years.
Wasn't it, after all, a kind of life?
And
there were houses, he knew it, that breathed. They carried in their
wood and stone, their brick and mortar a kind of ego that was nearly,
very nearly, human.”
―
Nora Roberts,
Key of Knowledge
Mod. Maciej Mirowski
Pomoc: Marcin Mazur, bardzo dziękuję.
