From Raymond Chandler’s novel, Farewell, My lovely (1940):
It got darker. I thought; and thought in my mind moved with a kind of sluggish stealthiness, as if it was being watched by bitter and sadisitic eyes. I thought of dead eyes looking at a moonless sky, with black blood at the corners of the mouths beneath them…
It got darker. The glare of the red neon sign spread farther and farther across the ceiling. I sat up on the bed and put my feet on the floor and rubbed the back of my neck.
I got up on my feet and went over to the bowl in the corner and threw cold water on my face. After a little while I felt a little better, but very little. I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun. I put them on and went out of the room…
‘I’m scared,’ I said suddenly. ‘I’m scared stiff… I’m afraid of death and despair,’ I said. ‘Of dark water and drowned men’s faces and skulls with empty eyesockets. I’m afraid of dying, of being nothing…’
FilmsNoir.Net 