„And I begin to ask myself what it could have been, this unremembered state which brought with it no logical proof, but the indisputable evidence, of its felicity, its reality, and in whose presence other states of consciousness melted and vanished…
…I ask my mind to make one further effort, to
bring back once more the fleeting sensation. And so that nothing may interrupt
it in its course I shut out every obstacle, every extraneous idea, I stop my
ears and inhibit all attention against the sound from the next room. And then,
feeling that my mind is tiring itself without having any success to report, I
compel it for a change to enjoy the distraction which I have just denied it, to
think of other things, to rest refresh itself before making a final effort. And
then for the second time I clear an empty space in front of it... and I feel
something start within me, something that leaves its resting-place and attempts
to rise, something that has been embedded like an anchor at a great depth; I do
not know yet what it is, but I can feel it mounting slowly; I can measure the
resistance, I can hear the echo of great spaces traversed.”
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