For what might occur thereafter she had no anxiety — she suspected that that would be the lifting of a burden, an unblinding of eyes. Nicole had been designed for change, for flight, with money as fins and wings. The new state of things would be no more than if a racing chassis, concealed for years under the body of a family limousine. should be stripped to its original self. Nicole could feel the fresh breeze already — the wrench it was she feared, and the dark manner of its coming.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is The Night
F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is The Night
