“She did not stop to ask if it were or were not a monstrous joy that held her. A clear and exalted perception enabled her to dismiss the suggestion as trivial.
She knew that she would weep again when she saw the kind tender hands folded in death; the face that had never looked saved with love upon her, fixed and grey and dead. But she saw beyond that bitter moment a long procession of years to come that would belong to her absolutely. And she opened and spread her arms out to them in welcome.”
Kate Chopin, “The Story of an Hour”, Kate Chopin b1850 d1904
A Bird's Eye View of Fashion, Food, Travel, Culture, Beverage and Curiosity 