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“He tried to think of something to say but could not. He's had this feeling before, beyond the numbness and the dull despair. The world shrinking down about a raw core of parsible entities. The names of things slowly following those things into oblivion. Colors. The names of birds. Things toe eat. Finally the names of things one believed to be true. More fragile than he would have thought. How much was gone already? The sacred idiom shorn of its referents and so of its reality. Drawing down like something trying to preserve heat. In time to wink out forever.”
―
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“Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?”
― Paradise Lost
To mould me man? Did I solicit thee
From darkness to promote me?”
― Paradise Lost
“Any man more right than his neighbors constitutes a majority of one already.”
― Civil Disobedience
― Civil Disobedience
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