This is the strange thing, that there is this promise of happiness even when the only thing surely ahead is death. Happiness does not then belong in time? But that is just what happiness is, freedom from time. And where better to uncover this than where time is at its most inexorable, where it dominates completely? But it is a different happiness to the one you have imagined, it is not the great de-alienation, the awakening from the dream of enmity and opposition and its immemorial rule, the recovery of innocence, a universal friending, recovery, insouciance, the reign of music. That is one of the spectres haunting history, not the one you usually think of, perhaps, but since history cannot end until it has coincided with this oblique and reversed image of itself it is one of the engines of time. No, this happiness is behind the process of process, indifferent, satisfied, taking no side, to such a degree that time unhindered by any trace of hope, regret, longing, or the desire for arrest, ceases to be time.