Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there's a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.

Keller frames death not as annihilation but as a transition—an ordinary movement “from one room into another.” The metaphor domesticates what is usually feared, suggesting continuity of self and relationship rather than rupture. The final clause makes the image intensely personal: as a woman who was deafblind from early childhood, she imagines the afterlife as a realm of restored perception, where the limitations that shaped her earthly experience fall away. The line thus joins spiritual hope with autobiographical reality, turning a general consolation about mortality into a pointed affirmation of dignity and expectation beyond disability.