The Great And Recurrent Question

It Was A Book To Kill Time For Those Who Liked It Better Dead.

Sleeping In A Bed -- It Is, Apparently, Of Immense Importance. Against Those Who Sleep, From Choice Or Necessity, Elsewhere Society Feels Righteously Hostile. It Is Not Done. It Is Disorderly, Anarchical.

Human Passions Against Eternal Laws -- That Is The Everlasting Conflict.

Each Wrong Act Brings With It Its Own Anesthetic, Dulling The Conscience And Blinding It Against Further Light, And Sometimes For Years.

The Ascendancy Over Men's Minds Of The Ruins Of The Stupendous Past, The Past Of History, Legend And Myth, At Once Factual And Fantastic, Stretching Back And Back Into Ages That Can But Be Surmised, Is Half-mystical In Basis. The Intoxication, At Once So Heady And So Devout, Is Not The Romantic Melancholy Engendered By Broken Towers And Mouldered Stones; It Is The Soaring Of The Imagination Into The High Empyrean Where Huge Episodes Are Tangled With Myths And Dreams; It Is The Stunning Impact Of World History On Its Amazed Heirs.