How close are we to the brink of something? Or how close to a shore? Electrical essences in the basement! Do you realize how much things have changed in the past two centuries?
A Canticle For Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller, Jr. (1959)
Though the windows were closed, and soon muffed, the bus was full of light. It was cruel light.
I shrank from the faces and forms by which I was surrounded. They were all fixed faces, full not of possibilities but of impossibilities, some gaunt, some bloated, some glaring with idiotic ferocity, some drowned beyond recovery in dreams; but all, in one way or another, distorted and faded.
One had a feeling that they might fall to pieces at any moment if the light grew much stronger. Then-there was a mirror on the end wall of the bus – I caught sight of my own.