M.

The world makes monsters, then sets them as its watchdogs.

You think yourself, perhaps, more than a speck within blind Nature? Human—ash and flesh— You feel the Dark invested you with functions?

How your spirit suffers! […] How ominously the void’s black breath pursues you with night and agitation! How you feel that a dream is a creature, flying, passing on.

The more one is dazzled, the less one is satisfied; Polonius’s saws and Ockham’s razors.

A dark mirage before me. […] Crypts of dizziness.

Night—cold and silent night! Cedars of Solomon, Oaks of Teutates; you cloud-divers, you Seance-recorders; magi, seers, sorcerers, Terrible men; refuges, forests, solitudes; Ombos where scholars live in hollow tombs […] Sleep—the dim intersection between dream And chasm, the white vent of apparitions; Germs, avatars, nocturnal incarnations Where angels fly away but monsters wallow; Death, nature’s black bridge between star and star, Through which human communicates with heaven; Colossus of Minerva Apteros.