“I snuck in between some boats that were being repaired and lit a cigarette; I had no idea what time it was, but I felt relaxed. From my hideout I could watch her at my leisure, without risk: she seemed terribly sad, like a tree that had suddenly sprouted from the seawall, a mystery of nature. And yet, when some precise spring-loaded mechanism set her in motion again, that impression disappeared, leaving only a trace like a photo and one thing for sure: solitude.”

                     --Roberto Bolaño (as translated by Chris Andrews), 
                                   The Skating Rink, 1993

“NEXT, AMID SNOW-PEAKED GRANDEUR: A MOMENT OF PORTENTOUS SILENCE—A WEIGHING OF CHANCES, AND OF EARTH’S FATE—THE SINGLE WHISPERED SYLLABLE WHICH GROWS INTO A WHINE–A SHOUT–AN INCESSANT, WORLD-SHAKING ROAR THAT MAKES THE MOUNTAINS TREMBLE—”

                     --Roy Thomas, AVENGERS, Vol. 1, No. 95, 
            "Something Inhuman This Way Comes...!," 1972