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“
Martin suggests, let's see Chartres on the way back.
The cathedral with its bleached stone and green roofs is visible across miles of flat fields and popular breaks. Approaching it through the dog's leg alleyways of the old town, its proportions are dizzying. Pigeons wheel about its height like cliff birds.
The afternoon light begins to go; a battery of floodlights makes an unearthly theatre of spires, pinnacles and buttresses.
Martin quotes Ruskin. ' "Trees of stone" '.
Inside the cathedral is
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”
― A long weekend with Marcel Proust: Seven stories and a novel
― A long weekend with Marcel Proust: Seven stories and a novel
“
I painlessly came to realize that the reverence I felt for the holiness of life is not ever likely to be entirely at home in organized religion. It was later, when I was able to travel farther , that the presence of holiness and mystery seemed, as far as my vision was able to see, to descend into the windows of Chartres, the stone peasant figures of Autun, the tall sheets of gold on the walls of Torcello that reflected the light of the sea; in the frescoes of Piero, of Giotto; in the shell of a
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”
― On Writing
― On Writing
