Book: Fountain Head
Author: Ayn Rand
“Then he lay without moving, straight and limp, like a man long past the stage of suffering, Roark stood at the window, looking at the wrenched room and at the boy on the bed. He wondered why he felt as if he were waiting. He was waiting for an explosion over their heads. It seemed senseless. Then he understood.
He thought, this is how men feel, trapped in a shell hole; this room is not an accident of poverty, it’s the footprint of a war, its the devastation torn by explosives more vicious than any stored in the arsenals of the world. A war….against?….. The enemy had no name and no face. But this boy was a comrade-in-arms, hurt in battle, and Roark stood over him, feeling a strange new thing, a desire to lift him in his arms and carry him to safety… Only the hell and the safety had no known designations….. he kept thinking of Kent Lansing, trying to remember something Kent Lansing has said.”
I love the way it’s been written and I find it so poetic. I finished reading the book 7 years back, but this particular piece of writing is still struck in my head and I like reading it over & over again.