Alfred Noyes~
Life, that Sphynx, with the human face & the body of a brute, asked us new riddles every hour. Matter itself was dissolving under the scrutiny of Science; & yet, in our daily lives, we were becoming a race of somnambulists, whose very breathing, in train & bus & car, was timed to the movement of the wheels; & the more perfectly, & even alertly, we clicked through our automatic affairs on the surface of things, the more complete was our insensibility to the utterly inscrutable mystery that anything should be in existence at all.
