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Abbott, Edwin Abbott, 1838-1926

"Flatland: a romance of many dimensions"

They have vanished, certainly--if they ever appeared.
But most people say that these visions arose from the thought--you will not
understand me--from the brain; from the perturbed angularity of the Seer.
I. Say they so? Oh, believe them not. Or if it indeed be so,
that this other Space is really Thoughtland, then take me to that
blessed Region where I in Thought shall see the insides of all solid
things. There, before my ravished eye, a Cube moving in some
altogether new direction, but strictly according to Analogy, so as to
make every particle of his interior pass through a new kind of Space,
with a wake of its own--shall create a still more perfect perfection
than himself, with sixteen terminal Extra-solid angles, and Eight
solid Cubes for his Perimeter. And once there, shall we stay our
upward course? In that blessed region of Four Dimensions, shall we
linger at the threshold of the Fifth, and not enter therein? Ah, no!
Let us rather resolve that our ambition shall soar with our corporal
ascent. Then, yielding to our intellectual onset, the gates of the
Six Dimension shall fly open; after that a Seventh, and then an Eighth--
How long I should have continued I know not.


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