“There were times when he had longed to return to that soft light. For some reason, all of the workers' prefab lodgings he had lived in had the same large windows on the north side. He had loved to read or draw in the light that came in through those windows. In was a soft, north light that neither burst in nor drenched them with its rays. That light from the north would almost apologetically enfold the room in gentle arms. It was different from the sharp brightness of the east window or the cheery sunniness of the south. The light from the north was quiet and serene, as if it had reached a state of enlightenment.”
Book:The North Light