Of the things we fashioned for them that they might be comforted, dawn is the one that works. When darkness sifts from the air like fine soft soot and light spreads slowly out of the east then all but the most wretched of humankind rally. It is a spectacle we immortals enjoy, this minor daily resurrection, often we will gather at the ramparts of the clouds and gaze down upon them, our little ones, as they bestir themselves to welcome the new day.
John Banville The Infinities
I'm taking some sick leave, fine folk. I shall float imperceptively in the air of your words and drink them in like medicine! (Don't you find when you read Banville that the words in your head take on the merest echo of his?! Oh for such articulation, even for his vocabulary!)