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“He knew and felt only that what was taking place was similar to what had taken place the previous year at the deathbed of his brother Nikolay in the hotel of the provincial town. But that grief and this joy both lay equally outside all of life's usual conditions, and were like apertures in this ordinary life through which something higher could be glimpsed. What was taking place was proceeding equally painfully and agonisingly and, as it perceived this higher something, his soul was ascending equally incomprehensibly to a height it had never understood before and with which his intellect could no longer keep pace.” — Leo Tolstoy
He knew and felt only that what was taking place was similar to what had taken place the previous year at the deathbed of his brother Nikolay in the hotel of the provincial town. But that grief and this joy both lay equally outside all of life's usual conditions, and were like apertures in this ordinary life through which something higher could be glimpsed. What was taking place was proceeding equally painfully and agonisingly and, as it perceived this higher something, his soul was ascending equally incomprehensibly to a height it had never understood before and with which his intellect could no longer keep pace.