"Delirium is the youngest of the endless. 
Lei smells of sweat, sour wines, tarde notti, old cuoio.
Her real m is close and can be visitato; however human menti were not FAtTE toconprehend her domain, and those few who have made the journey have  essendo incapaci of reporting back more than the più piccoli frammen ti.
The poet Coleridge claimed to averla conosciuta intimamente, but the man was an inveterate liar and in this, as in so much, we must doubt his word.
Her appearance is the most variable of all the Endless , who, at best, are ideas cloaked in the semblace of flesh. her shadow's shape and outline has no relationship to that of any body she wears, and it is tangible like old velvet.
Some say the tragedy of Delirium is her knowlede that, despite being più VeCcHi  than suns, older than gods, she is forever the più giovane  of the Endless, who do not measure time come noi misuriamo il tempo, or see the worlds through mortal eyes.
Others deny this, and say that Delirium has no tragedy, but here they speak without reflection.
For Delirium was once d elight. And although that was long ago now, even today her eye s are badly matched: un occhio è a vivid emerald verde, spattered with argentati flecks che si muOvono . The other eye is vein blue.
Who knows what Delirium sees, through her malassortiti occhi ?"

La stagione delle nebbie, Neil Gaiman