now the humid night was farforth spent, / And heauenly lampes were halfendeale ybrent ….

[T]hou art like a ſwift dromedarie, that runneth by his wayes.

These last few weeks I have been experiening nucleomituphobia. I am truly afraid for the future of the world.

The frenzied, suggestible, gregarious, subconscious self, freed from all rational restraints, celebrated its delirious orgies, its corybantic bacchanalia, held its mad salto mortale over the grave of crucified humanity.