And all life was a rotary motion, mechanised, cut off from reality.

There was nothing to look for from life--it was the same in all countries and all peoples.
The only window was death.

One could look out on to the great dark sky of death with elation, as one had looked out of the classroom window as a child, and seen perfect freedom in the outside.

Now one was not a child, and one knew that the soul was a prisoner within this sordid vast edifice of life, and there was no escape, save in death.
But what a joy! What a gladness to think that whatever humanity did, it could not seize hold of the kingdom of death, to nullify that.

The sea they turned into a murderous alley and a soiled road of commerce, disputed like the dirty land of a city every inch of it.