Even then he had felt wise beyond his years; he'd stroked her her hair and said in his deepest voice and correctest English, as to a dear child: "I shall never forget this moment." But though he had breathed heavily, groaned as if ecstatic, what he'd really felt throughout was an odd detachment, as though someone else were Master. Strive as he might to be transported, he heard his mind take notes upon the scene: This is what they call passion. I am experiencing it.
In the funhouse mirror-room you can't see yourself go on forever, because no matter how you stand, your head gets in the way.
John Barth
