Between sensation and bedrock lies the courage of man to determine bonds of derivative journeying. What could be of this if I follow the projection of the sun? What of the sea? I see this odd category of impeachment, of vaulting a few languid stones in order to languish a triffle or two. Don’t stop there. I see her coruscate through the trees, bursting rays spliced with affection and intrigue and desire: all these things that look like gold, feel like gold, weigh like gold. Oh, heaven, I look your way but feel only the dark abyss looks back. Shall I stretch my body out further to you, dear Sol? Has not my mind stretched enough? It is the other I need, to breathe her silver light upon me.
All and nothing, you say? Philalethes, you humble me, startle me, abandon me. I watched her come and go; I hear her speak. She dreams: How far are the bounds of human knowledge?