The sun was dying; of that there could be little doubt; and still the earth whirled onward, through space and all the aeons.
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Context: The Recluse watches the far-future sun darken.
Source: Chapter XVII: The Slowing Rotation
Then, for the last time, I saw the earth — an enduring globule of radiant blue, swimming in an eternity of ether. And there I, a fragile flake of soul dust, flickered silently across the void, from…
I am an old man. I live here in this ancient house, surrounded by huge, unkempt gardens. The peasantry, who inhabit the wilderness beyond, say that I am mad. That is because I will have nothing to do…
Light! One must spend an eternity wrapped in soundless night, to understand the full horror of being without it.
'Yesterday — ' I stopped, suddenly. Yesterday! There was no yesterday. The yesterday of which I spoke had been swallowed up in the abyss of years, ages gone.
And so, by millions of years, time winged onward through eternity, to the end — the end, of which, in the old-earth days, I had thought remotely, and in hazily speculative fashion. And now, it was…