“I don't care,” said Lilly, “I'm learning to possess my soul in patience and in peace, and I know it. And it isn't a negative Nirvana either. And if Tanny possesses her own soul in patience and peace as well—and if in this we understand each other at last—then there we are, together and apart at the same time, and free of each other, and eternally inseparable. I have my Nirvana—and I have it all to myself. But more than that. It coincides with her Nirvana.”
“Ah, yes,” said Aaron. “But I don't understand all that word-splitting.”
“I do, though. You learn to be quite alone, and possess your own soul in isolation—and at the same time, to be perfectly WITH someone else—that's all I ask.”
“Sort of sit on a mountain top, back to back with somebody else, like a couple of idols.”
“No—because it isn't a case of sitting—or a case of back to back. It's what you get to after a lot of fighting and a lot of sensual fulfilment. And it never does away with the fighting and with the sensual passion. It flowers on top of them, and it would never flower save on top of them.”
“What wouldn't?”
“The possessing one's own soul—and the being together with someone else in silence, beyond speech.”
“And you've got them?”
“I've got a BIT of the real quietness inside me.”
“So has a dog on a mat.”