France
At the right there was an old House—the window was open. We could see a table with a greenish oil cloth, on it a long bread, a bottle of wine, heavy white plates. We could only see the old hands of the people who were eating. A hand passed a basket with 2 peaches on it. It was all the paintings of the world, quiet, resisting time, everlasting. It is the only image of duration and eternity I have seen in a long time.
Letter to Felix Pollak dated July 18, 1958 in Arrows of Longing (Athens: Ohio University Press, 1998), 128–29.
Only in this sun-steeped country can a heavy table, a wicker chair, an earthenware jar crowned with flowers, and a dish whose thick enameling has run over the edge, make a complete furnishing.
Break of Day (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001), new introduction by Judith Thurman, 62.