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Vero è che come forma non s’accorda
molte fïate all’intenzion dell’arte,
perch’a risponder la materia è sorda;
così da questo corso si diparte
talor la creatura, c’ha podere
di piegar, così pinta, in altra parte[.]


I am like a little dog that trots down the road after the regimental band, but stops to snuff a tree-trunk, to sniff some brown stain, and suddenly careers across the street after some mongrel cur and holds one paw up while it sniffs an entrancing whiff of meat from the butcher’s shop. My traffics have led me into strange places.

Virginia Woolf