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No matter what my external habitation may be like, I want my internal habitat to be a cottage chrysalis. And when I talk about retreating into my shell, I don’t mean as a fragile tortured soul who needs protection. I think of my shell as a miniature torqued palace of the mind. Instead of a shopping mall filled with consumables, the shell-space is a volute of mother of pearl filled only with the sound of the sea.

— Susan Irvine