From this darkness anything might come to them, angel or devil, nymph or satyr.

So, at least, he dreamed for a while, giving his imagination the rein.

Then, in a revulsion of feeling, he jeered at his folly, mutely scolded his nerves for spurring him to such flagrant imbecilities.
"This is all nonsense," he told himself, "all fancy, all a world created, peopled, endowed with life by my desirous mind, which longs for a new sensation.

I will not encourage this absurdity.

I will be calm, cold, observant, discriminating.