"The house was dark. I stood looking at it in the darkness, just aware of its bulk in the feeble light of a broken moon, and I thought it looked even bigger than it really was, like a stone-giant's head, a huge moonlit skull full of shapes and memories, staring out to sea and attached to a vast, powerful body buried in the rock and sand beneath, ready to shrug itself free (...).
The house stared out to sea, out to the night, and I went into it."
Iain Banks (1954-2013). The Wasp Factory (1984). London: Abacus, 2013, p. 110