“The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”
- John Milton, 'Paradise Lost'
I have been lost in the labyrinthine recesses of my own mind lately, listening to the cacophony of hounding thoughts. Trapped by the inability to halt the ever present nagging of my racing psyche, I have ineffectively searched for a quiet mental corner where I could hide amid the static calm of incessant white noise … the sound of a roaring waterfall or the crashing of ocean waves on an unnamed shore.
“A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul.”
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”
- John Milton, 'Paradise Lost'
I have been lost in the labyrinthine recesses of my own mind lately, listening to the cacophony of hounding thoughts. Trapped by the inability to halt the ever present nagging of my racing psyche, I have ineffectively searched for a quiet mental corner where I could hide amid the static calm of incessant white noise … the sound of a roaring waterfall or the crashing of ocean waves on an unnamed shore.
“A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul.”
- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Devil’s Foot
