In a train's sleeping berth:
The tension and fatigue entailed in every existence originate in other, larger forms of existence; in these berths, stacked on either side of the corridor, like tombs in the galleries of the catacombs, each person achieves an absolute solitude. This nocturnal dwelling evokes the peace of the funeral chambers of Mycenae and Cerveteri; no appeal from the outside world can penetrate here. My life is no longer pulled in different directions or tied to anyone or anything; it is closed in on itself in the silence of death. I turn off the lights and shut my eyes. I feel the rhythmic movement of teh train as it rolls into the unknown; this movement also brings me peace- the peace of an alibi. Not only am I separated from everything, but I am not situated at any particular spot in the universe. I'm just passing through. the sleep that pulls me from this world is in harmony with the rolling of the train, which minute by minute denies me my unique place in it.
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