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Because the time now approached when the destiny of the Sutpen’s family which for twenty years now had been like a lake welling from quiet valley and spreading, rising almost imperceptibly and in which the four members of it floated in sunny suspension, felt the first subterranean movement toward the outlet, the gorge which would be the land’s catastrophe too, and the four peaceful swimmers turning suddenly to face one another, not yet with alarm or distrust but just alert, feeling the dark set, none of them yet at that point where man looks about his companions in disaster and thinks When will I stop trying to save them and save only myself? and not even aware that that point was approaching.

William Faulkner, Absalom, Absalom!