I am heartbroken beyond words. There are discussions around the net, of course, but I thought that someone should say something here on this forum.
One hardly knows what to say. Here's one of my favorite Wolfe quotes, from chapter 13 of The Sword of the Lictor:
I spent the remainder of the night staring at the stars; it was the first time I had ever really experienced the majesty of the constellations… At first all the stars seemed like a featureless mass of lights, however beautiful, like sparks that fly upward from a fire. Soon, of course, I began to see… shapes, some corresponding to constellations of which I had heard, others that were, I am afraid, entirely of my own imagining… When these celestial animals burst into view, I was awed by their beauty. But when they became so strongly evident (as they quickly did) that I could no longer dismiss them by an act of will, I began to feel as frightened of them as I was of falling into that midnight abyss over which they writhed; yet this was not a simple physical and instinctive fear like the other, but rather a sort of philosophical horror at the thought of a cosmos in which rude pictures of beats and monsters had been painted with flaming suns.