Hullo, Polly, my love, can you hear the dumb goose-hiss of the wives as they huddle and peck or flounce at a Thomas waddle away? Who cuddled you when? Which of their gandering hubbies moaned in Milk Wood for your naughty mothering arms and body like a wardrobe, love?
Surelyarchitecture is the organization for pleasure of enclosed space. And what more magnificent enclosure than a town, a place, a place where the spirit is cuddled, made serene, made proud, happy, or excited depending on the ceremony, the day, the hour.philip johnson
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