The Further In You Go, The Bigger

Seeing A Woman's Child Is Like Seeing A Woman Naked, In The Way It Changes How Her Face Looks To You, How Her Face Becomes Less The Whole Story.

The Further In You Go, The Bigger It Gets.

Violet Said Nothing, Though Big Pearly Tears, Like A Child's, Trembled At Her Lashes. She Suddenly Missed John Very Much. Into Him She Could Pour All The Inarticulate Perceptions, All The Knowings And Unknowings She Felt, Which, Though He Couldn't Understand Them Really, He Would Receive Reverently, And Out Of Him Would Come Then The Advice, The Warnings, The Clever Decisions She Could Never Have Made.

She Had Always Lived Her Best Life In Dreams. She Knew No Greater Pleasure Than That Moment Of Passage Into The Other Place, When Her Limbs Grew Warm And Heavy And The Sparkling Darkness Behind Her Lids Became Ordered And Doors Opened; When Conscious Thought Grew Owl's Wings And Talons And Became Other Than Conscious.

God, He Thought, Her Eyes Are So Bright, Flashing, Deep, Full Of Promise, All Those Things Eyes Are In Books But Never Are In Life, And She Was His.