They used to say: the darkest hour is one before dawn; yet when the murkiness of night is drawn out in seconds; the solitude of dusk protracted 'yond man's measure; it is but eternity in every grain; hopeless in every other.
pale as the white breeze, the eye cannot maketh its crease, the trough, the zennith, the power...it speaks...it reeks...Oh! how it piques my curiosity! how it delves into the nebulous truth of reality, how it
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