ON CAMBRIDGE

'The real enchantment of Cambridge is of the intimate kind; an enchantment lingering in the nooks and corners, coming upon one gradually down the narrow streets, and ripening year by year. The little river and its lawns and willows, the old trees in the old garden, the obscure bowling-greens, the crooked lanes with glimpses of cornices and turrets, the low dark opening out on to sunny grass – in these, and in the things like these, dwells the fascination of Cambridge.’

L. Strachey

ON DEATH - STRACHEY

“-How miraculously lucky I am!  And I sat down absolutely comfortable, with a little bank of earth under the hedge for my back to lean against, and the charming English prospect before my eyes. I thought of my friends, and my extraordinary happiness. I thought of Death, of Keats and the Ode to the Nightingale, of ‘easeful Death’ – ‘half in love with easeful Death’ – and I was convinced, as I’d been convinced in the train coming down from London that if Death would only come to one in a mood of serene happiness, he would be very welcome. I thought of suddenly dying, painlessly, where I lay…”

L Strachey