"ANYWHERE OUT OF THE WORLD"
"Or perhaps Java seems to you more attractive? Well, there we
shall find the mind of Europe married to tropical beauty."
Not a word. Can my soul be dead?
"Have you sunk then into so deep a stupor that only your own
pain gives you pleasure? If that be so, let us go to the lands
that are made in the likeness of Death. I know exactly the
place for us, poor soul! We will book our passage to Torneo. We
will go still further, to the last limits of the Baltic; and,
if it be possible, further still from life; we will make our
abode at the Pole. There the sun only grazes the earth, and the
slow alternations of light and night put out variety and bring
in the half of nothingness, monotony. There we can take great
baths of darkness, while, from time to time, for our pleasure,
the Aurora Borealis shall scatter its rosy sheaves before us,
like reflections of fireworks in hell!"
At last my soul bursts into speech, and wisely she cries to me:
"Anywhere, anywhere, out of the world!"
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