One moment he was exhaustible, drinking in the world around him as if it were so much water placed there for the sole purpose of quenching his thirst, and the next moment he was a child, closing his eyes, the wide smile still on his face, ready to sleep, to sleep and build energy for the next ecstasy that he was sure was in store for him. His feelings ruled him completely; he was savage and undisciplined. The contrast between Matthew and himself at the same age appalled him. He had been restrained, quiet, and disciplined; compared to him, Matthew was a kind of angel-devil on a perpetual emotional drunk.
From Finistère, Fritz Peters
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