I, the dreamer clinging yet to the dream as the patient clings to the last thin unbearable ecstatic instant of agony in order to sharpen the savor of the pain's surcease, waking into the reality, the more than reality, not to the unchanged and unaltered old time but into a time altered to fit the dream which, conjunctive with the dreamer, becomes immolated and apotheosized
William Faulkner...thinking as he had thought before and would think again and as every other man has thought: how false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life.
William Faulkner