“I won, I won, and all for what? Void, void, I thought, that’s all there is. Howl and only more howl comes back, it doomed to die like thunder on a summer plain, with no span of time so meaningfully shallow, so empty, so wretched pure in its silence as that one clapping down after thunder ceases—you won, oh you won, you’ve scattered the devils, but where’s the logic, where’s victory’s afterglow? Void, void, the true kingdom, void only and no other.” – Leon Rooke, Shakespeare’s Dog