so many things. Now, house, I am not afraid. No ghost need fear
come by me. If there’s a door in silence, let it open. My silence
can be greater than your own. And you who are in me, and who I am,
can be greater than your own. And you who are in me, and who I am,
come forth beyond this quiet shell of flesh that makes no posture
to deny you. There is none to look at us: O come, my brother and
my lord, with unbent face. If I had 40,000 years, I should give
all but the ninety last to silence. I should grow to the earth
like a hill or a rock. Unweave the fabric of nights and days;
unwind my life back to my birth; subtract me into nakedness again,
and build me back with all the sums I have not counted. Or let me
look upon the living face of darkness; let me hear the terrible
sentence of your voice.
There was nothing but the living silence of the house: no doors
were opened.
Thomas Wolfe, from ‘Look Homeward, Angel’
