Tuesday, December 11, 2012


I just stood and looked at her. I guess it’s getting to be too much for her, at timeseven for her. I do not think she allows herself to know how tired she is. She was asleep on the sofa. She had been there all night. She looked like a young girl. She looked as if she felt certain that she would awaken in a world where no one would harm her, as if she had nothing to hide or to fear. But what I saw after that was terrible: that guiltless purity of her face, with her body twisted by exhaustion, still lying there as she had collapsed…

(Ayn Rand ~ Description of Dagny Taggart: Atlas Shrugged pg. 407)

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