Quotes of quotes of quotes of quotes, 9/14

When I have nothing to say for myself, I turn to the giants of literature. This passage from William Faulkner’s Light in August basically illustrates my present state of mind, something that Faulkner seems to accomplish with fair regularity. Not sure whether that’s healthy.

The earth has almost faded from sight. It is almost night now. His bandagedistorted head has no depth, no solidity; immobile, it seems to hang suspended above the twin pale blobs which are his hands lying upon the ledge of the open window. He leans forward. Already he can feel the two instants about to touch: the one which is the sum of his life, which renews itself between each dark and dusk, and the suspended instant out of which the soon will presently begin.

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