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I have never been attractive to women, which is possibly why I mostly form relationships with inanimate objects. I have a single arm and a single leg and my stale green eyes are so close together that I am able to peep through a keyhole with both of them at once. Nor does my beauty lie beneath my skin; I have no skin.
Before you there were others; I will not try to hide this from you. There was a hat-stand in Reading; an antimacassar in Norwich. But these were youthful affectations. They fluttered away on the wind of my desire like the pages of some half-finished novel in the passing of a train. It is you that I love now, a feisty sort of cello that has spoken to me across the gulf of a crowd. I will not be satisfied with any other. ‎· full of melancholy details
— Rhys Hughes, Cello I Love You // Worming the Harpy and Other Bitter Pills ‎· full of melancholy details
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