Drinking was good for me; it set things in motion. And I was thrust into something, a feeling of… not infinity exactly, but of, well, something unlimited. Something I could go into, deeper and deeper. The feeling was so sharp and distinct. No bounds. That was what it was, a feeling of boundlessness.
– Knausgaard, A Death in the Family/My Struggle (tr. Bartlett)
Notes from a Room 