I had to project myself beyond my body into a motion
that had not yet begun but was imminent and irreversible.
A friendly voice seldom reaches me nowadays. I am alone now, absurdly alone; and in the course of my relentless and underground struggle against everything that human beings till now have revered and loved, I have imperceptibly become something like a lair myself - something hidden away, which people do not find, even if they go out and look for it. But people do not go out in search of such things…
Nobody really knew anything. People lived; they went here and there about the earth and rode through forests; so much seemed to challenge or to promise, and so many sights to stir our longing: an evening star, a blue harebell, a lake half-covered in green reeds, the eyes of beasts and human eyes; and always it was as though something would happen, something never seen and yet sighed for, as though a veil would be pulled back off the world; till the feeling passed, and there had been nothing.
There are moments when even to the sober eye of reason, the world of our sad humanity may assume the semblance of Hell.
No single event can awaken within us a stranger whose existence we had never suspected. To live is to be slowly born.