"I seemed to be lying neither asleep nor awake looking down a long corridor of gray halflight where all stable things had become shadowy paradoxical all I had done shadows all I had felt suffered taking visible form antic and perverse nocking without revelence inherent themselves with the denial of the significance they should have affirmed thinking I was I was not who was not was not who." [Sound and the Fury, 170]
Faulkner, I may not know exactly what Quentin is saying, but the passages are absolutely beautiful, even on the surface.
Aesthetics are so often admired without a consideration of substance, anyways. Sometimes, I guess it's okay to let the words wash over you.
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