Thus we stood for a moment. Behold, who can tell the workings of the Lord, I thought to myself. At the back of my mind there was a line of Yeats too, though I could not pin down the words, only the music. Then I took the required step forward and embraced her, and for a whole minute we stood clasped together, this shrunken old man and this earthly incarnation of heavenly beauty, and could have continued for a second minute, she would have permitted that, being generous of herself; but I thought, Enough is enough, and let her go.
J. M. Coetzee, 2007.
É este livro que (quase) começa com ele perdido na lavandaria e ela a rasgar tudo com um vestido vermelho. Vês.