‘Ahh, so kind,’ muttered James through his beard and tipped his hat again and bowed slightly and then turned to umbrella-tap his way down the wide, white stone steps.
Adequate as an entertainment? Who did this homely prune of a spinster think she was? — Dan Simmons, The Fifth Heart

June 17, 2011

Henry in Paris


He was in Paris to work, and Paris was ‘an excellent place to work,’ he assured his editor at the Atlantic, William Dean Howells, who would be publishing the new novel in installments. ...
‘What shall I tell you?’ he began a letter to Howells one April morning. ‘My windows are open, the spring is becoming serious, and the soft hum of good old Paris comes into my sunny rooms…
 ‘The spring is now quite settled and very lovely,’ he told brother William a few weeks later. ‘It makes me feel extremely fond of Paris and confirms my feeling of being at home here. … I scribble along with a good deal of regularity….’ And that, as he knew William understood, was the point.
from The Greater Journey:  Americans in Paris, by David McCullough


{Henry's friend, John Singer Sargent, The Luxembourg Gardens at Twilight, 1879}

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