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The prevailing color, as far as he could see through the sides of the casket, was golden or coppery.
“Sober certainty of waking bliss.”
I thought we went along paths—but it seems there are no paths. The going itself is the path.”
It did not defy goodness, it ignored it to the point of annihilation.
sleep was not a thing that happened to her but an action which she performed.
“it’s been worth it. I have had a time. I have lived in Paradise.”
everything that can possibly hold significance for the mind becomes the mere by-product of essential disorder.
“The only point in anything is that there isn’t any point.
Wishing and fearing were modes of consciousness for which he seemed to have lost the faculty.
of celestial strength and beauty falling on a jungle of filth and imbecility.
