Her soul seemed a cold, separate thing, while her body was weightless, humid, its contours exposed and scarcely natural. It was hard to say which was unworthy of the other.
Transit of Venus Shirley Hazzard (Penguin, p. 77)
Her soul seemed a cold, separate thing, while her body was weightless, humid, its contours exposed and scarcely natural. It was hard to say which was unworthy of the other.
Transit of Venus Shirley Hazzard (Penguin, p. 77)
