[Quiet Man Cometh]

Into this wild abyss,
The womb of nature and perhaps her grave,
Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire,
But all these in their pregnant causes mixed
Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight,
Unless the almighty maker them ordain
His dark materials to create more worlds,
Into this wild abyss the wary fiend
Stood on the brink hell and looked a while,
Pondering his voyage...

- John Milton, Paradise Lost.

Here not because I'm all that fond of Milton, but because this passage is in the beginning pages of my copy of The Golden Compass.