“Marble would not be good enough to lay this corpse upon; for the sight – discard the blemishes – is wonder. This is the sordid remnant, yet the eye may even now replace what has been lost. Where went that spirit, which played in the magnificence – which made this mountain leap and sport, quickened the eye, retracted that balloon of a tongue, lifted that fallen jaw? This was a lump which solved some wild equation of the elements. This monstrous form and painted shapeliness has burned its way through phosphorescent waves in summer, the black night lighted by luminous clouds of its own breathing; and sinking with an easy silence, it has spiralled to unseen depths, upon unknown desires. It is more lovely and more startling than the Sphinx.”