Атлант расправил плечи

           Herfacewasmadeofangularplanes,theshapeofhermouthclear-cut,asensualmouthheldclosedwithinflexibleprecision. Shekeptherhandsinthecoatpockets,herposturetaut,asifsheresentedimmobility,andunfeminine,asifshewereunconsciousofherownbodyandthatitwasawoman’sbody. 

           Shesatlisteningtothemusic.Itwasasymphonyoftriumph. Thenotesflowedup,theyspokeofrisingandtheyweretherisingitself,theyweretheessenceandtheformofupwardmotion,theyseemedtoembodyeveryhumanactandthoughtthathadascentasitsmotive. Itwasasunburstofsound,breakingoutofhidingandspreadingopen.Ithadthefreedomofreleaseandthetensionofpurpose. Itsweptspaceclean,andleftnothingbutthejoyofanunobstructedeffort. Onlyafaintechowithinthesoundsspokeofthatfromwhichthemusichadescaped,butspokeinlaughingastonishmentatthediscoverythattherewasnouglinessorpain,andthereneverhadhadtobe. Itwasthesongofanimmensedeliverance. 

           Shethought:Forjustafewmoments—whilethislasts—itisallrighttosurrendercompletely—toforgeteverythingandjustpermityourselftofeel.Shethought:Letgo—dropthecontrols—thisisit. 

           Somewhereontheedgeofhermind,underthemusic,sheheardthesoundoftrainwheels. Theyknockedinanevenrhythm,everyfourthknockaccented,asifstressingaconsciouspurpose. Shecouldrelax,becausesheheardthewheels. Shelistenedtothesymphony,thinking:Thisiswhythewheelshavetobekeptgoing,andthisiswherethey’regoing.