" Now the western tempest was scrawled all over with lines of intolerable light, while the inky head of the cloud-giant to the east was continually suffused with a white and deadly glow that came and went in pulses, as though a blood of flame was being pumped into it from the heart of the storm. "

― H. Rider Haggard , Hunter Quatermain's Story: The Uncollected Adventures of Allan Quatermain