If I even knew how _it_ is built, and in what way one dies upon it; but
it is horrible, I do not know this.
The very name of it is frightful, and I cannot understand how I have
hitherto been able to write and utter it. The idea I attach to this
hateful name is vague, undefined, and therefore more sinister. I
construct and demolish in my mind continually its hideous scaffolding.
I dare not ask a question about it; yet it is dreadful not to know what
it is, and how to act. I fancy there is a sort of hollow, and that you
are laid on your face, and--
Ah, my hair will be white before my head falls!