The size of this scientific universe gave one no novelty, no relief.

The cosmos went on for ever, but not in its wildest constellation could there be anything really interesting; anything, for instance, such as forgiveness or free will.

The grandeur or infinity of the secret of its cosmos added nothing to it.

It was like telling a prisoner in Reading gaol that he would be glad to hear that the gaol now covered half the county.

The warder would have nothing to show the man except more and more long corridors of stone lit by ghastly lights and empty of all that is human.
So these expanders of the universe had nothing to show us except more and more infinite corridors of space lit by ghastly suns and empty of all that is divine.
In fairyland there had been a real law; a law that could be broken, for the definition of a law is something that can be broken.