In a moment there often dwells the sense of eternity; for when profoundly happy, we know that it is impossible to die.
Whenever the soul FEELS ITSELF, it feels everlasting life.
The initiation is deferred,--thy days and nights are left to no other visions than those with which a contented heart enchants a guileless fancy.

Glendoveers and Sylphs, pardon me if I question whether those visions are not lovelier than yourselves.
They stand by the beach, and see the sun sinking into the sea.

How long now have they dwelt on that island?
What matters!--it may be months, or years--what matters! Why should I, or they, keep account of that happy time?
As in the dream of a moment ages may seem to pass, so shall we measure transport or woe,--by the length of the dream, or the number of emotions that the dream involves?
The sun sinks slowly down; the air is arid and oppressive; on the sea, the stately vessel lies motionless; on the shore, no leaf trembles on the trees.
Viola drew nearer to Zanoni.

A presentiment she could not define made her heart beat more quickly; and, looking into his face, she was struck with its expression: it was anxious, abstracted, perturbed.

"This stillness awes me," she whispered.
Zanoni did not seem to hear her.