Sublime

She smelled right. It was like an echo, of a voice you can’t quite hear.

She thought of him as a source of knowledge rather than experience; a good, though not contemporary mind, a person rather than a man.

she was “a wrinkled old fairy all the same.”

John Updike’s The Centaur,

You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman. You are your own voyeur.

Not for nothing is his personal dæmon the raven, that picker-up of bits and pieces here and there.

accretion

coalesced

assuage