There are no words for the mental torture I endured during this helpless, eyeless groping for myself in a boundless void.

No other experience of the mind gives probably anything like the sense of absolute intellectual arrest from the loss of a mental fulcrum, a starting point of thought, which comes during such a momentary obscuration of the sense of one's identity.

I trust I may never know what it is again.
I do not know how long this condition had lasted--it seemed an interminable time--when, like a flash, the recollection of everything came back to me.

I remembered who and where I was, and how I had come here, and that these scenes as of the life of yesterday which had been passing before my mind concerned a generation long, long ago mouldered to dust.

Leaping from bed, I stood in the middle of the room clasping my temples with all my might between my hands to keep them from bursting.