Durrell, Lawrence. Bitter Lemons.

Brick by brick, stone by stone, window by window, I watched it all put together by my friends with a sense of familiarity that one has sometimes when a poem 'comes out' of its own accord like an equation, without having to be tortured or teased.

(I bought this book at a flea market and scribbled on the inside cover are some criticisms of the author, ending with a flat 'Durrell is an almond cookie.' Although I am finding the book interesting, his misconceptions about the Ottoman empire and prejudices against Turkish people are rather sickening.)