«He found a ramshackle old hotel a block square, the Hotel Noctámbulo, where insomnia prevailed. In each room, somebody was staying up working at some impossible midnight project - a mad inventor, a gambler with a system, a preacher with an only partly-communicable vision. Doors were left unlocked, strangers acted for the most part like neighbors, everybody free to roam each others' units.»
(Thomas Pynchon, Against the Day)
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