All was strange in a fog, buildings grew vague, human beings groped and became lost, the landmarks, the compass points, by which they navigated melted into nothingness and the world was transfigured into a country of the blind. But if the sighted became blind, then the blind – and for some odd reason I have always regarded myself as one of the blind – the blind became sighted, and I remember felling at home in the fog, happily at ease in the murk and gloom that so confused my neighbors.

-Patrick McGrath

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