“The face itself had been seen only once by three people for a few seconds. Even the sex was now in dispute. But there could be no doubt that greatness was seated within; greatness was passing, hidden, down Bond Street, removed only by a hand’s-breadth from ordinary people who might now, for the first and last time, be within speaking distance of the majesty of England, of the enduring symbol of the state which will be known to curious antiquaries, sifting the ruins of time, when London is a grass-grown path and all those hurrying along the pavement this Wednesday morning are but bones with a few wedding rings mixed up in their dust and the gold stoppings of innumerable decayed teeth. The face of the motor car will then be known.”

From Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf

I’m catching up on some course work for my Seminar in Lit class this semester–a class that demands I leave my ego at the door otherwise I’ll feel terribly inadequate the entire evening–and I was taken by this bit of the story. I’m not crazy about the Mrs. Dalloway just yet, but I thought this image of a future where these characters existed only in dust and forgotten pieces of metal gorgeous. Just thinking.

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