nameless miseries of the numberless mortals - Herman Melville

But if I know not even the tail of this whale, how understand his head? much more, how comprehend this face, when face he has none? Thou shalt see my back parts, my tail, he seems to say, but my face shall not be seen. But I cannot completely make out his back parts; and hint what he will about his face, I say again he has no face.

art is the objectification of feeling

With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship