And yet one has these ‘glimpses’, before which all that one ever has written (what has one written?) – all (yes, all) that one ever has read, pales. The waves, as I drove home this afternoon, and the high foam, how it was suspended in the air before it fell…What is it that happens in the moment of suspension? It is timeless. In that moment (what do I mean?) the whole life of the soul is contained. One is flung up – out of life – one is ‘held,’ and then, – down, bright, broken, glittering on to the rocks, tossed back, part of the ebb and flow.
~ Katherine Mansfield, from a Journal Entry, 8 February 1920