You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those wint — Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
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You think of outside your room, of the streets of the town, the lonely little squares over by the station, of those winter Saturdays all alike.

— Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death
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loneliness monotony sameness winter

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