People say hell is endless;
They say it's our worst nightmare;
The face of our darkness;
But whatever it is; wherever it is;
I say hell is empty;
And all the devils are here.

 

Yet how over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed there share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I was him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustable variety of life.