I had to admit that I lived for nights like these, moving across the city’s great broken body making connections among its millions of cells. I had a crazy wish or fantasy that some day before I died, if I had all the right neural connections, the city would come all the way alive. Like the Bride of Frankenstein.
Ross Macdonald
Not sure where Macdonald wrote this, but found it as the epigraph from the play, Knuckle, by David Hare.
David Hare Plays 1: Slag; Teeth ‘n’ Smiles; Knuckle; Licking Hitler; Plenty