fredag 31. mars 2017

In aeternum floreat (Dorothy Sayers: Gaudy Night)

In the glamour of one Gaudy night, one could realise that one was a citizen of no mean city. It might be an old and an old-fashioned city, with inconvenient buildings and narrow streets where the passers-by squabbled foolishly about the right of way; but her foundations were set upon the holy hills and her spires touched heaven.
Det er ikke mye jeg trenger å tenke på Oxford før jeg plutselig har plukket opp Gaudy Night for n-te gang. Det virket denne gangen også.

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