Coffins stood round, like open presses, That shaw’d the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish cantrip slight Each in its cauld hand held a light […]

Yet even in the extreme situation of super anaesthesia my body could figure standingly, i.e., figure as the center of feeling. This standing way of figuring would then still be part of what makes my body my body.

These are but vain suspicions which thou airest.

[F]rom a cavern's mouth, o'ergrown / With moss and intertangled vines, / A streamlet leaps into the light / And murmurs over root and stone / In a melodious undertone; […]