Nothing voiced-all hisses, a serpent, vengeful, relentless," they raved. Others attested to languages long dead to the world, though of course known to their reporters. "The man-shaped light shall not deliver you," it allegedly declared, and, "Flames were always your destiny, my children." Its children- Is it worth anyone's while now to journey out those starfish corridors where they suffer, each behind his door of oak and iron, the penance they bear as a condition of that awful witness? My
( Thomas Pynchon )
[ Against the Day ]
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