When I wake early — and the birds wake me — I lie and watch the brass handles on the cupboard grow clear; then the basin; then the towel-horse. As each thing in the bedroom grows clear, my heart beats quicker. I feel my body harden, and become pink, yellow, brown. My hands pass over my legs and body. Here is another day, here is another day, I cry, as my feet touch the floor.
Virginia Woolf, The Waves
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