One you've left my armchair, walking towards the north, you come into view of my bed, which is placed in the far end of the room... It is situated in the most pleasant spot imaginable: the first rays of the sun come to disport themselves on my bed curtains...
Is there any theatre which arouses the imagination more, or awakens more tender ideas, than this pieceof furniture in which I sometimes loose myself?
-Xavier de MaistreA bed witnesses our birth and death; it is the unvarying theatre in which the human race acts out, successively, its captivating dramas, laughable farces, and dreadful tragedies.
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