In the deepest slumber -- no! In delirium -- no! In a swoon -- no! In death -- no! even in the grave all is not lost.Narrator
Then the mere consciousness of existence, without thought – a condition which lasted long. Then, very suddenly, thought, and shuddering terror, and earnest endeavor to comprehend my true state.Narrator
I felt that I lay upon my back, unbound. I reached out my hand, and it fell heavily upon something damp and hard.Narrator
I was sick -- sick unto death with that long agony; and when they at length unbound me, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my senses were leaving me.Narrator
I had swooned; but still will not say that all of consciousness was lost. What of it there remained I will not attempt to define, or even to describe; yet all was not lost.Narrator
The blackness of darkness supervened; all sensations appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the soul into Hades.Narrator
There reached my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.Narrator
The peculiar susceptibility belonging, of late, to the confessor of the Inquisition.Narrator
Down -- still unceasingly -- still inevitably down!Narrator
I rushed to its deadly brink. I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roof illumined its inmost recesses.Narrator