'One of the chiefe kingdomes of the night,' a land where lakes may turn men to marble. Have I been there? All of a sudden I am not certain. It may be that this land is only found in winter. Perhaps in summer it sinks. The waves close over it for the season, and fishermen at far-out miði may haul up fragments of sculpture in their nets, clots of nighttime on their hooks.
The terrors of the night (1594) Thomas Nashe
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