We must wave our hands at the blue
hills far away there and go back to London and work. I shall quit this
roof to-morrow. Were I a painter of subject pictures, I would exhaust all my skill in proportion
and perspective and atmosphere upon the august seat of empire, I would present
it gray and dignified and immense and respectable beyond any mere verbal
description, and then, in vivid black and very small, I would put in those
valiantly impertinent vans, squatting at the base of its altitudes and pouring out a
swift, straggling rush of ominous little black objects, minute figures of
determined women at war with the universe. ‘Well, if that’s what the good Lord wants, then you’ll just have to accept it.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 26-06-2024 20:54:06