"... brooding on the fact that there is no one even for you to feel
vindictive against, that you have not, and perhaps never will have, an object for
your spite, that it is a sleight of hand, a bit of juggling, a card-sharper's
trick, that it is simply a mess, no knowing what and no knowing who, but
in spite of all these uncertainties and jugglings, still there
is an ache in you, and the more you do not know, the worse the ache."