Book: The pit and the pendulum

The one who has not fainted, never will distinguish palaces outlandish and strangely familiar faces in the burning coals; you will not see floating in the air the sad visions that others don't notice, not to think about the smell of the unknown flower, do not be surprised suddenly the music rhythm never stops his attention.

Awakening from the deep sleep, we break the fragile web of some dream. But in the next moment (so frail may that web) we do not remember what we dreamed.

Even in the grave all is not lost. Otherwise there is no immortality.