She had what the Victorians would call . You could imagine the skull quite...

She had what the Victorians would call . You could imagine the skull quite easily. I'd know her head anywhere.
And what's inside it. I think of that, too: her mind. Her brain, all those coils, and her thoughts shuttling through those coils like fast, frantic centipedes. Like a child, I picture opening her skull, unspooling her brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down her thoughts.