The day seemed different to Rosemary than the day before. When she saw him face to face their eyes met and brushed like birds' wings. After that everything was all right, everything was wonderful, she knew that he was beginning to fall in love with her. She felt wildly happy, felt the warm sap of emotion being pumped through her body. A cool, clear confidence deepened and sang in her. She scarcely looked at Dick but she knew everything was all right.
Chapter XVI, Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald, published 1934.
I love the image of emotion being a warm sap pumping through Rosemary's body. You get that idea of something thick and hot and sticky, honey-like. Something raw and unprocessed, straight from earth. I think that it is so completely true. Isn't emotion just raw and unprocessed in general? Yes, it is, isn't it? I love that Fitzgerald said this.