Crazy Radio eBooks

In a beautiful and almost magical sadness he too was one with the
night, this night in Italy. It held him softly in its arms. A golden
sadness streamed from the stars. The voices below expressed it. The
fishermen's torches in the Bay, those travelling lights that are as
the eyes of the South searching for charmed things in secret places,
lifted the sorrows of earth towards the stars, and they were golden
too. There was a joy even in the tears wept on such a night as this.
He loved detail. It was, perhaps, his fault to love it too much. But
now he realized that the magician, Night, knew better than he what
were the qualities of perfection. She had changed Naples into a diaper
of jewels sparkling softly in the void. He knew that behind that
lacework of jewels there were hotels, gaunt and discolored houses full
of poverty, shame, and wickedness, galleries in which men hunted the
things that gratify their lusts, alleys infected with disease and
filth indescribable. He knew it, but he no longer felt it.


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