...of a change of mind

It was, actually, only in the few moments following the sudden transition - the breaking down of the soundtrack, the change from the talkie to the silent film - that he now ever thought about, or indeed was conscious of - this extraordinary change which took place in his mind. Soon enough he was watching the silent film - the silent film without music - as though there had never been any talkie - as though what he saw had always been like this.

A silent film without music - he could have found no better way of describing the weird world in which he now moved. He looked at passing objects and people, but they had no colour, vivacity, meaning - he was mentally deaf to them. They moved like automatons, without motive, without volition of their own. He could hear what they said, he could understand their words, he could answer them, even; but he did this automatically, without having to think of what they had said or or what he was saying in return. Therefore, though they spoke it was as though they had not spoken, as though they had moved their lips but remained silent. They had no valid existence; they were not creatures experiencing pleasure or pain. There was, in fact, no sensation, no pleasure or pain at all in this world: there was only himself - his dreary, numbed, dead self.

[Hangover Square, Hamilton, P.]