Alas, I feel how much even of incipient madness might have been discovered in the gorgeous and fantastic draperies, in the solemn carvings of Egypt, in the wild cornices and furniture, in the Bedlam patterns of the carpets of tufted gold! I had become a bounden slave in the trammels of opium, and my labors and my orders had taken a coloring from my dreams.
A thunderous passion, conceived in obsession and nurtured in the bowels of delirium, that grasps in desperation through the darkest shadows of the ether. An unwholesome smoky musk, dark and sweet, laced with Virginia tobacco, honeyed black currant, and red patchouli.
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