“It was at a dinner at the Cumnors’;
and there she was, in front of the very tapestry we saw her against
the other evening, with people about her, and her face turned from
me, and nothing noticeable or different in her dress or manner; and
suddenly she stood out for me against the familiar unimportant
background, and for the first time I saw a meaning in the stale
phrase of a picture’s walking out of its frame. For, after all,
most people are just that to us: pictures, furniture, the
inanimate accessories of our little island-area of sensation. And
then sometimes one of these graven images moves and throws out live
filaments toward us, and the line they make draws us across the world
as the moon-track seems to draw a boat across the water...."
Edith Wharton
Edith Wharton
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