The sea is high again today, with a thrilling flush of wind. In the midst of winter you can feel the inventions of springs. A sky of hot nude pearl until midday, crickets in sheltered places, and now the wind unpacking the great planes, ransacking the great planes…

I have escaped to this island with a few books and the child — Melissa’s child. I do not know why I use the word ‘escape’. The villagers say jokingly that only a sick man would choose such a remote place to build. Well, then, I have come here to heal myself, if you like to put it that way…

— Lawrence Durrell, Justine