[N]o time has passed since we lived in caves, grappled with fish at the reedy shore, buried our dead with a song, with red-ochre and pulled up our dolmens, temples and menhirs and standing stones to the glory of some indeterminate god or gods, […]
1963, Thomas Pynchon, “Confessions of Fausto Maijstral”, in V.: […], Philadelphia, Pa., New York, N.Y.: J[oshua] B[allinger] Lippincott Company, pages 310–311