Sylvia Townsend Warner Quote

Nora's small purple coffin coming out of the hearse; the one bunch of brilliant spring flowers on it. Out of such bare material, out of mere birth and death, we spin the intricate web of love, we distill it from these poor bones and ashes, and with it conceive the tale that is told and ended when we die.

The Diaries of Sylvia Townsend Warner (1995)