Our moods are apt to bring with them images which succeed each other like the magic-lantern pictures of a doze; and in certain states of dull forlornness Dorothea all her life continued to see the vastness of St. Peter’s, the huge bronze canopy, the excited intention in the attitudes and garments of the prophets and evangelists in the mosaics above, and the red drapery which was being hung for Christmas spreading itself everywhere like a disease of the retina.
When first reading this novel in 1994 I found this passage one of the most entrancing things I'd ever read, without even fully understanding the basic sense. I practically skipped over the sense because that was the least interesting thing about it. It's the language that hooked me; and I still admire it; but back then it was thrilling because it was so new to me.
