theparisreview:

“Silence.

“In his mind, still warmed by the pillow, it seemed a holy calm had descended. He lay like  a saint. He was naked, his ankles, his hipbones, his throat.

“He heard her call his name. He said nothing. He lay there becoming small, smaller, vanishing. The room became a window, a facade, a group of buildings, squares and sections, in the end all of Rome. His ecstasy was beyond knowing. The roofs of the great cathedrals shined in the winter air.”

—James Salter, “The Cinema”

Photography Credit Leo Le Bug