The Golden Compass
The room you occupy is not a room, but a suspension of air, a vast and hollow sphere where the walls breathe with the slow rhythm of a sleeping lung. You are standing at the center, though there is no floor to speak of, only a membrane of light that pulses beneath your feet, warm and wet as the inside of a cheek. Here, knowledge is not written in books or spoken in tongues; it is the substance...
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