She opened her eyes and looked up at the water. All she could do was see through the water, the same blue sky, and in between her eyes and the sky the long tendrils of her own hair were floating and tangling. She watched, and was afraid, and liked all she felt, and liked the pressure of the water on her ears and nostrils, the way the water suddenly lifted and lightened the limbs of her body, and touched her secret places and public places with equal precision, equal cool attention. She liked the feeling of her fear.
— Robert Kelly, The Example of the Hawk // The Logic of the World and Other Fictions ‎- religion-neutral stethoscope
He read the story again now from the beginning to the end. There were parts in it that he didn't care much about, the stuff about her mother, a rat eating a flower, they meant nothing to him. But the rest was wonderful—a woman was living in her body, living in her feelings. And her feelings were living in the world, in water and sun and air—her feelings belonged to the world! That's what the theater should do, give people such intensity of feelings as that woman, all alone, discovered in her fountain. ‎- religion-neutral stethoscope