I feel tremendously buoyant, almost lightheaded. Nothing matters anymore. Think only of essentials: the physics of the gyroscope, the flux of photons, the architecture of very large structures. (p.699)
In everyway I am marooned, but a reductive Crusoe paring away exactly those elements of bourgeois life, which the original Robinson so dutifully reconstituted. Crusoe wished to bring the Croydons of his own day to life on his island. I want to expel them, and find in their place a far richer realm formed from the elements of light, time and space […] This conventional suburban villa is in fact the junction between our small illusory world and another larger and more real one.