Barry Pain,
Very High Play
(1895)
“ Think what the betting might be between two men each holding a certainty—onward and upward in a mad and monstrous progression, each separate bet transcending the wildest imaginings of the drunkard mathematician! I despise time. I have a contempt for space. Language is no good, and splits as soon as you try to make it fit the unusually large. My eyes are looking toward largeness—towards the conditions under which the perfect betting on the perfect cards would be possible. ”
