He was laughing to himself as he rolled down the stairs, at the dull bumping going on behind his head and along his spine, as if it were happening miles away, like a vibration on another part of the earth’s surface, and he was an earthquake-machine on which it was faintly recorded. This rolling motion was so restful and soporific, in fact, that when he stopped traveling—-having arrived at the bottom of the stairs—-he kept his eyes closed and went to sleep. It was a pleasant and faraway feeling, and he wanted to stay in exactly the same position for the rest of his life. -
- Alan Sillitoe / Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
"The actual tragedies of life bear no relation to one’s preconceived ideas. In the event, one is always bewildered by their simplicity, their grandeur of design, and by that element of the bizarre which seems inherent in them."