There was the moon, reaching a still arm behind him, to the bed where he had lain. He stood there unsteady in the cold, mumbling syllables which almost resolved into her name, as though he could recall, and summon back, a time before death entered the world, before accident, before magic, and before magic despaired, to become religion.
Clouds blew low over the town, shreds of dirty gray, threatening like evil assembled in a hurry, disdained by the moon they could not obliterate.”
– an excerpt taken from the very early pages of the novel, The Recognitions, by William Gaddis
view from a burrow 