He opened his eyes and looked at her. She greeted him with a mocking, enigmatic smile in which was a poignant gaiety. Over his face went the reflection of the smile, he smiled, too, purely unconsciously.
That filled her with extraordinary delight, to see the smile cross his face, reflected from her face. She remembered that was how a baby smiled. It filled her with extraordinary radiant delight.
“You’ve done it,” she said.
“What?” he asked, dazed.
And she bent down, kissing him passionately, passionately, so that he was bewildered. He did not ask her of what he had convinced her, though he meant to. He was glad she was kissing him. She seemed to be feeling for his very heart to touch the quick of him. And he wanted her to touch the quick of his being, he wanted that most of all.
-D.H. Lawrence, Women in Love
Notice how the story opens the heart and mind to experience that which cannot be described. The taste of chocolate or the scent of a rose can never be expressed in words but a story may enable a trace of recognition of what is inexpressible.