"I looked around me at all the rows of rapt little heads with the same silver glow on them at the front and same black shadow on them at the back, and they looked like nothing more or less than a lot of stupid moon-brains."
"Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die."
"Time is a great machine of iron barsThat drains eternally the milk of stars."
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