Moby Dick

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brain seems as beheaded, and rolling on some stunning ground. Oh, oh!
Yet blindfold, yet will I talk to thee. Light though thou be, thou
leapest out of darkness; but I am darkness leaping out of light, leaping
out of thee! The javelins cease; open eyes; see, or not? There burn the
flames! Oh, thou magnanimous! now I do glory in my genealogy. But thou
art but my fiery father; my sweet mother, I know not. Oh, cruel! what
hast thou done with her? There lies my puzzle; but thine is greater.
Thou knowest not how came ye, hence callest thyself unbegotten;
certainly knowest not thy beginning, hence callest thyself unbegun. I
know that of me, which thou knowest not of thyself, oh, thou omnipotent.
There is some unsuffusing thing beyond thee, thou clear spirit, to whom
all thy eternity is but time, all thy creativeness mechanical. Through
thee, thy flaming self, my scorched eyes do dimly see it. Oh, thou
foundling fire, thou hermit immemorial, thou too hast thy incommunicable
riddle, thy unparticipated grief. Here again with haughty agony, I read
my sire. Leap! leap up, and lick the sky! I leap with thee; I burn with
thee; would fain be welded with thee; defyingly I worship thee!"