He is very careful and loving, and hardly lets me stir without special direction. He said we came here solely on my account, that I was to have perfect rest and all the air I could get. It is a big, airy room, the whole floor nearly, with windows that look all ways.
I never saw a worse wall paper in my life. One of those sprawling flamboyant patterns committing every artistic sin. The colour is repellent, almost revolting; a smouldering unclean yellow, strangely faded by the slow turning sunlight. There comes John, and I must put this away, - he hates to have me write a word.
Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1892)