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192 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1981



"the pilfering postmaster, whose lugubrious ghost still loitered in his lost domain...he was touched by her sad ungainly state...the breadth and balance of the buildings...a comic bugle blast...this rage to work, this rapture of second thoughts...sortilege and star magic...scissors and paste and strips of coloured paper...his head humming with fever, he felt something sweep softly down on him, a shadow vast and winged...countless small lakes and perennially flooded lowlands...a priestly pustular young person, haggard with ambition and self-abuse...an ashen awakening from a dream...the gateman, a fat fellow in furs...mild amaze...a clockwork simulacrum of tenderness...what impossible blue vision of flight...a kind of quietly splendid equilibrium...my little bag of bats’ wings..."
"If you love me, then eschew this passionate excitement."
"It was as in a dream, where it slowly dawns that you are the one who has committed the crime."
"You had regard for him, sir, you saw his worth, as I did."
"[...harmony is] that which the soul creates by perceiving how certain proportions in the world correspond to prototypes existing in the soul.
"The proportions everywhere abound, in music and the movements of the planets, in human and vegetable forms, in men's fortunes even, but they are all relation merely, and nonexistent without the perceiving soul.
"How is such perception possible? Peasants and children, barbarians, animals even, feel the harmony of the tone. Therefore the perceiving must be instinct in the soul, based in a profound and essential geometry, that geometry which is derived from the simple divisioning of circles...
"Now he took the short step to the fusion of symbol and object. The circle is the bearer of pure harmonies, pure harmonies are innate in the soul, and so the soul and the circle are one.
"Such simplicity, such beauty."
"...to destroy the past, the human and hopelessly defective past, and begin all over again the attempt to achieve perfection: that same heedless, euphoric sense of teetering on the brink while the gleeful voice at his ear whispered jump."
"Such a dream I had...Such a dream. Es war doch so schön."
He was after the eternal laws that govern the harmony of the world. Through awful thickets, in darkest night, he stalked his fabulous prey. Only the stealthiest of hunters had been vouchsafed a shot at it, and he, grossly armed with the blunderbuss of his defective mathematics, what chance had he? crowded round by capering clowns hallooing and howling and banging their bells whose names were Paternity, and Responsibility, and Domestgoddamnedicity. Yet O, he had seen it once, briefly, that mythic bird, a speck, no more than a speck, soaring at an immense height. It was not to be forgotten, that glimpse.In renaissance Europe, divided on nationalistic and religious lines, a revolution is taking place - something that's going to totally upend humanity's worldview. Earth, from its position at the centre of the universe, is going to become a practical nonentity circling the Sun, a star in a solar system among countless solar systems, in a galaxy among many such galaxies. Then men on the vanguard of the revolution, the early astronomers, don't know they are going to do it, however. They are just men of science, lusting after the elusive thing called truth, glimpsed once in a while tantalizingly through all the random noise that surrounds the intellect in this journey we call life.
Kepler supported her, trying in vain to think of some comforting word. The strangest thoughts came into his head. On the journey from Linz he had read the Dialogue on ancient and modern music by Galileo's father, and now snatches of that work came back to him, like melodies grand and severe, and he thought of the wind-tossed sad singing of martyrs on their way to the stake. (167)