"""There is no life in thee, now, except that rocking life imparted by a gently rolling ship; by her, borrowed from the sea; by the sea, from the inscrutable tides of God. But while this sleep, this dream is on ye, move your foot or hand an inch; slip your hold at all; and your identity comes back in horror. Over Descartian vortices you hover. And perhaps, at mid-day, in the fairest weather, with one half-throttled shriek you drop through that transparent air into the summer sea, no more to rise for ever. Heed it well, ye Pantheists!"""
from Ch. 35, "The Mast-Head", Moby Dick by Herman Melville Guar-ann-teed to scare the phrack out of the usual WASP or wicca, trash mormonic or methodist, wahaabbi or rabbi
onedrawingforeverypageofMobyDick
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