Memory cannot produce a picture that Imagination has not retouched; and her pictures, even the ones least touched by Imagination, are no mere photographs, but the world of an artist.

When we have learnt to call storms, storms, and death, death, and birth, birth, when we have mastered the sailor’s horn-book and Mr Piddington’s law of cyclones, Ellis’s anatomy and Lewer’s midwifery, we have already...

The moon rose up that evening and shot her silver arrows at the house under the artu tree. The house was empty. Then the moon came across the sea and across the reef. She lit...

A great sea fog is not homogenous–its density varies: it is honeycombed with streets, it has its caves of clear air, its cliffs of solid vapour, all shifting and changing place with the subtlety of...