ingratitude

lust

sloth

summer

occupation / innovator as

biographer

journalist

nationality

British

Some sins have no season. We are as likely to be angry in November as to lose our rag in March ... There is, though, something autumnal about greed, apple-cheeked and wheat-crowned, purpled knee-high in grapes; something summery in sloth, as the hammock creaks in the fly-drowsy heat; and more than a tickle of spring in lust, as birds pair and the sap rises. Among these, ingratitude is winter, the worst of seasons.

is made up of more than a tickle of spring, as birds pair and the sap rises.

has something summery, as the hammock creaks in the fly-drowsy heat.

is a slothy season, as the hammock creaks in the fly-drowsy heat.

Ann Wroe

Authors(0)

Ann WroeThinkers

Ann Wroe