This is cited from the book: Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I believe this piece is one of the best and my favorite use of words, ever.
Strange memories on this nervous night in Las Vegas. Had has it been five years? Six? It seems like a lifetime, the kind of peak that never comes again. San Francisco in the middle sixties was a very special time and place to be a part of. But no explanation, no mix of words, music or memories can touch that sense of knowing you were there and alive in that corner of time in the world. Whatever it meant. There was madness in every direction at any hour you could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that knowing whatever we were doing was right that we were winning, and that I think was the handle. That sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting—on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave… So now, less than five years later, you can go up on a steep hill in Las Vegas and look West, and with the right kind of eyes you can almost see the high-water mark—that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back.