Ambition soared on mad wings, and he saw himself climbing the heights with her, sharing thoughts with her, pleasuring in beautiful and noble things with her.

It was a soul-possession he dreamed, refined beyond any grossness, a free comradeship of spirit that he could not put into definite thought.

He did not think it.

For that matter, he did not think at all.

Sensation usurped reason, and he was quivering and palpitant with emotions he had never known, drifting deliciously on a sea of sensibility where feeling itself was exalted and spiritualized and carried beyond the summits of life.
He staggered along like a drunken man, murmuring fervently aloud: "By God! By God!" A policeman on a street corner eyed him suspiciously, then noted his sailor roll.
"Where did you get it ?" the policeman demanded.
Martin Eden came back to earth.