Authors:
  • This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat; by day it stood voiceless and cast its long shadow.

    Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.12, The Overlook Press