My brain cleared again, and the death of my arms to the shoulders was most rapidly accomplished.
At this stage my body was all dead, so far as I was concerned, save my head and a little patch of my chest.

No longer did the pound and smash of my compressed heart echo in my brain.

My heart was beating steadily but feebly.

The joy of it, had I dared joy at such a moment, would have been the cessation of sensations.
At this point my experience differs from Morrell's.

Still willing automatically, I began to grow dreamy, as one does in that borderland between sleeping and waking.