I'm editing a wonderful set of essays on Willa Cather this week and came across this passage from Cather's short story "Paul's Case." It describes the moment of the protagonist's death, with a killer last clause:
"He felt something strike his chest, and that his body was being thrown swiftly through the air, on and on, immeasurably far and fast, while his limbs were gently relaxed. Then, because the picture making mechanism was crushed, the disturbing visions flashed into black, and Paul dropped back into the immense design of things."
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