Attempt it

“Come, I am always saying to Tarquin. There are still new universes to be inhabited, if you have the authentic disease and the courage. Come, drop down with me to the limits of the photic zone. Let us construct out of the sensitive bodies of this twilight race our new systems that we talk about all day long. . . . At a hundred fathoms fish like silver bullets. Under the viscous scalp itself phenomena like Porpita and Ianthina, blue smoke in water. At three hundred rufus, brick, claret. The violet flesh of pteropods, wicked, wicked, wicked. Here is a philosophic reality whose terminology is lying there, complete but unused. . . . Yes, beyond the territory of those remote tribes we only live in illuminated names: the pycnogonids, the nudibranchs, the brittlestars, the chitons, the crinoids, and the penatulids—away beyond these into that region from which we are going to receive the new myth.

     Attempt it, I am always saying to that sallow bastard, attempt it.”

—Lawrence Durrell, The Black Book, 1938.