An Excerpt from Sybille Bedford
We were then each working on a book and had reached midstream, that prosperous passage between the struggle of the beginning and the obsession of the end, when the book moves with its own existence and has not yet absorbed one's own, and the daily quarrying is an anchor rather than a burden, a secret discipline at once attaching and detaching, muffling and heightening the rest of living. Within these shafts we strayed at will between two dreams, the life of our books, and the life of the Hacienda.
Every day we wore linen clothes, every day we bathed. We had never been so free. Letters were lost or late, everything else in abeyance among those birds and fruit and flowers—anxiety, money, love; the vicissitudes of friends, the miseries of politics, ourselves perhaps.
A Visit to Don Otavio: A Traveller's Tale from Mexico (originally published as The Sudden View: A Mexican Journey, 1953 (published in England as), p. 257.