"The exquisite quiet of this room! I have been sitting in utter idleness, watching the sky, viewing the shape of golden sunlight upon the carpet, which changes as the minutes pass, letting m eye wander from one framed print to another, and along the ranks of my beloved books. Within the house nothing stirs. In the garden I can hear singing of birds, I can hear the rustle of their wings. And thus, if it pleases me, I may sit all day long, and into the profounder quiet of the night.....
There is not the remotest possibility of any one's calling upon me, and that I should call upon any one else is a thing undreamt of. I owe a letter to a friend; perhaps I shall write it before bedtime; perhaps I shall leave it till tomorrow morning. A letter of friendship should never be written save when the spirit prompts.
I have not yet looked at the newspaper. Generally I leave it till I come back from my walk; it amuses me to see what the noisy world is doing, what self-torments men have discovered; what new forms of vain toil, what new occasions of peril and strife. I grudge to give the first freshness of the morning mind to things so bad and foolish." George Gissing.