![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy9Q5A5Q3gtJnO4bXztp1pgvas9aqB3TtbwWPIWBG4npdgKik7aUc97BLsCSVkP66o7xmMyw0LNOr9SDxlpcjMZfpNrotFwYAuWHpiVf65d1BTWnaY0hOXe3rAm5v41yvuY8Tzu83P6ZEX/s320/Bernard.jpg)
was a morning in early summer. A silver mist glowed and trembled from the linden trees. The air was filled with their fragrance. The temperature was like a caress. Remember, no need to remember "that I climbed a tree, I was shocked and I was suddenly immersed in it. Did not call well. The words were unnecessary. That and I were just one.
Bernard Berenson.
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