Phantasm

Is there nought for me, Upon the bourne of bliss, but misery?" These words awoke the stranger of dark tresses: Her dawning love-look rapt Endymion blesses With 'haviour soft. Sleep yawn'd from underneath. "Thou swan of Ganges, let us no more breathe This murky phantasm!

A personal, human feeling for a brief moment got the better of the artificial phantasm of life he had served so long.

When trying to imagine these latter, he kept recalling a bloody little film Henry had dragged him to. Phantasm, it had been called. Down at the old Majestic.

"I sometimes think my genius is a phantasm we've manufactured between us. When I'm not with you I don't believe in it—I don't believe in anything when I'm not with you."

None can be more loyal to the memory of Huxley than the present writer, and it is even because of my sense of his grand leadership that he is here mentioned as a typical instance of the extent to which the very elect of free-thought may be unconsciously victimized by the phantasm with which they are contending.

This phantasm of a partitioned woman began to haunt him, and not only in his dreams.

Then it scuttered back into the mist and was gone. It might have been a phantasm from a horrible drug-dream ... except for the puddles of sticky black stuff it had left behind. There was a clang as Buddy finally dropped his steel pinchbar.

She spake, and at her words the hellish Pest Forbore; then these to her Satan returned: "So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strange Thou interposest! that my sudden hand, Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds What it intends, till first I know of thee What thing thou art, thus double-formed, and why, In this infernal vale first met, thou call'st Me father, and that phantasm call'st my son. I know thee not, nor ever saw till now Sight more detestable than him and thee."