" A little way off there stood a church, and its gilded spire glittered in the sun. He remembered staring stubbornly at this spire, and at the rays of light sparkling from it. He could not tear his eyes from these rays of light, he got the idea that these rays were his new nature, and that in three minutes he would become one of them, amalgamated somehow with them. "

― Fyodor Dostoevsky , The Idiot