The little vanities of those whom the human race has excreted are so sinister because we know by them that there must be consciousness in those skulls.
“In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, ‘Is it good, friend?’
‘It is bitter—bitter,’ he answered;
‘But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.’”
Stephen Crane