mr. edwards: i am a draper mad with love. i love you more than all the flannelette and calico, candlewick, dimity, crash and merino, tussore, cretonne, crepon, muslin, poplin, ticking and twill, in the whole cloth hall of the world. i have come to take you away to my emporium on the hill, where the change hums on wires. throw away your little bedsocks and your welsh wool knitted jacket, i will warm the sheets like an electric toaster, i will lie by your side like the sunday roast.
miss price: i will knit you a wallet of forget-me-knot blue, for the money to be comfy. i will warm your heart by the fire so that you can slip it under your vest when the shop is closed.
-dylan thomas, “under milk wood”