A full moon is poison to some; they shut it out at every crevice, and do not suffer a ray to cross them; it has a chemical or magical effect; it sickens them. But I am never more free and royal than when the subtile celerity of its magic combinations, whatever they are, is at work.
Harriet Elizabeth Prescott Spofford, Alfred Bendixen (1989). “The Amber Gods, and Other Stories”, p.67, Rutgers University Press
