All times can be inhabited, all places be visited. In a single day the mind can make a millpond of the oceans. Some people who never have crossed the land they were born on have travelled all over the world. The journey is not linear, it is always back and forth, denying the calendar, the wrinkles and lines of the body. The self is not contained in any moment or any place, but it is only in the intersection of moment and place that the self might, for a moment, be seen vanishing through a door, which disappears at once. (p. 80)

from: Sexing the Cherry by Jeanette Winterson