I cannot explain that change any more than I can explain how the eyes can shift and suddenly understand the hidden picture of a stereogram. Yet it happened. I was, as it were, within that cold mountain which was never a mountain but a pit. I had to climb up to get down here, and strangely will need to go up again just to get back down, I thought.
“We are never sure of anything in here,” a voice said. “What’s up or down but the mere whims of taste? Hot or cold but a pair of words meaning nothing?”
Tale Told 