"I was already feeling uneasy. All at once, the silence stopped breathing.

   The infinite day suddenly splintered like steel. I crouched like an animal on the table, my hands useless claws gripping the smooth table top. A cruel light had entered every corner and every soul, and a voice from a nearby mountain fell from on high, a shout ripping the silken walls of the abyss. My heart stopped. My throat pounded. The only thing my mind was aware of was an inkblot on a piece of paper." 

- Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet.