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Abbott, Edwin Abbott, 1838-1926

"Flatland: a romance of many dimensions"


"The higher I mount, and the further I go from your Plane,
the more I can see, though of course I see it on a smaller scale.
For example, I am ascending; now I can see your neighbour the Hexagon
and his family in their several apartments; now I see the inside of
the Theatre, ten doors off, from which the audience is only just departing;
and on the other side a Circle in his study, sitting at his books.
Now I shall come back to you. And, as a crowning proof, what do
you say to my giving you a touch, just the least touch, in your stomach?
It will not seriously injure you, and the slight pain you may suffer
cannot be compared with the mental benefit you will receive."
Before I could utter a word of remonstrance, I felt a shooting pain
in my inside, and a demoniacal laugh seemed to issue from within me.
A moment afterwards the sharp agony had ceased, leaving nothing but
a dull ache behind, and the Stranger began to reappear, saying,
as he gradually increased in size, "There, I have not hurt you much,
have I? If you are not convinced now, I don't know what will convince you.
What say you?"
My resolution was taken.


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