Silence was as infectious as mirth, she thought, an awkward silence in one group begetting a loutish silence in another, which in turn induced a more general, meaningless silence in a third, until it had spread everywhere. Nothing in the world is more powerful than one of these sudden strange silences—
Malcolm Lowry, Under the Volcano
Trois cloques sur la main gauche, je sais pas d’où elles sortent, ça brûle, comme si je m’étais brûlé, sauf que c’est pas le cas, sauf à considérer que (...)