human
Which is, says The Pilgrim's Scrip,
gpt
Poor Hippias! All his machinery is bare! and had no hope that he would ever be in a condition to defend it from view. Nevertheless Hippias had that hope, and so he told his brother, making great exposure of his machinery to effect the explanation. He spoke of all his physical experiences exultingly, and with wonder. The achievement of common efforts, not usually blazoned, he celebrated as triumphs, and, of course, had Adrian on his back very quickly. But he could bear him, or anything, now. It was such ineffable relief to find himself looking out upon the world of mortals instead of into the black phantasmal abysses of his own complicated frightful structure.
human
My mind doesn't so much seem to haunt itself, now, said Hippias, nodding shortly and peering out of intense puckers to convey a glimpse of what hellish sufferings his had been:
gpt
I feel as if I had come aboveground.