“It is strange how sad it can be - sunlight in the afternoon, don't you think?”
“But they never last, the golden days. And it can be sad, the sun in the afternoon, can't it? Yes, it can be sad, the afternoon sun, sad and frightening.”
“It's strange how sometimes you can be so happy it goes all the way round to sadness.”
“It's strange, but sad. I think I'll always be sad.”
“All afternoon in the deck chair, I try to describe to my notebook the colors of the water and sky. How to translate sunlight into words?”
“the late afternoon sunlight, warm as oil, sweet as childhood ...”