standing still, yet always receding

 

--------------- [excerpt, The Bridges of Madison County, novel by Robert James Waller, 1992 - Warner Books] ----------------

     He looked at his watch:  eight-seventeen.  The truck started on the second try, and he backed out, shifted gears, and moved slowly down the alley under hazy sun.  Through the streets of Bellingham he went, heading south on Washington 11, running along the coast of Puget Sound for a few miles, then following the highway as it swung east a little before meeting U.S. Route 20.

     Turning into the sun, he began the long, winding drive through the Cascades.  He liked this country and felt unpressed, stopping now and then to  make notes about interesting possibilities for future expeditions or to shoot what he called "memory snapshots."  

     The purpose of these cursory photographs was to remind him of places he might want to visit again and approach more seriously.  In late afternoon he turned north at Spokane, picking up U.S. Route 2, which would take him half-way across the northern United States to Duluth, Minnesota. ------------------------ [end, excerpt]

____________________

[excerpt from The French Lieutenant's Woman, novel by John Fowles, 1969 - Jonathan Cape (UK); Little, Brown (US)] -----------------------------

Charles set out to catch up, and after a hundred yards or so he came close behind her.  She must have heard the sound of his nailed boots on the flint that had worn through the chalk, but she did not turn.  He perceived that the coat was a little too large for her, and that the heels of her shoes were mudstained.  

He hesitated a moment then; but the memory of the surly look on the dissenting dairyman's face kept Charles to his original chivalrous intention; to show the poor woman that not everybody in her world was a barbarian.

     "Madam!"

     She turned, to see him hatless, smiling; and although her expression was one of now ordinary enough surprise, once again that face had an extraordinary effect on him.  It was as if after each sight of it, he could not believe its effect, and had to see it again.  It seemed to both envelop and reject him; as if he was a figure in a dream, both standing still and yet always receding.

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