She knows, now, absolutely, hearing the white noise that is London, that Damien's theory of jet lag is correct: that her mortal soul is leagues behind her, being reeled in on some ghostly umbilical down the vanished wake of the plane that brought her here, hundreds of thousands of feet above the Atlantic. Souls can't move that quickly, and are left behind, and must be awaited, upon arrival, like lost luggage.
-- William Gibson's Cayce Pollard in "Pattern Recognition"
I can now fully understand her. My soul did not yet arrive.
And for everyone into Gibson's novels: Pattern Recognition rocks. I somehow didn't like Idoru too much but everything else he's written is just great. Of course, nothing beats the sprawl cycle which I've read countless times and which still continues to amaze me.
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