ну, в общем, да...
А если не ограничиваться написанием правдоподобного комментария, может все-таки, кто-нибудь знает, откуда дровишки?

Начал писать примечание и все встало. Никак не удается мне логическая связка "no more worlds to conquer" - легенда, восходящая к "there are so many worlds, and I haven't conquered one". Чувствую, тут нужна либо женская интуиция, либо гуманитарное образование :)

> The feeling he gave me resembled the self-conscious panic
> which I used to experience in my childhood when informed
> that there was One Awful Eye that watched my every
> movement and saw my every act.

Это не про это?
Hannah Whitall Smith, the marvelous Quaker writer from the 1800s, wrote a book called The Unselfishness of God. That might calm our fears just a little bit, but in this spiritual autobiography, she describes how a friend of hers grew up "in a perfect terror of God." She had this idea of God being a cruel giant with an awful "Eye."
"[It] could see everything, no matter how it might be hidden, and . . . He was always spying on her, and watching for chances to punish her, and to snatch away all her joys. She said she would creep into bed at night with the dreadful feeling that even in the dark the ‘Eye of God' was upon her; and she would pull the bed covers over her head in the vain hope, which all the while she knew was vain, of hiding herself from this terrifying Eye...

Или вот:
In this matter of reading—of children’s reading—we stand, just now, or halt just now, between two ways. The parent, I believe, has decisively won back to the right one which good mothers never quite forsook. There was an interval, lasting from the early years of the last century until midway in Queen Victoria’s reign and a little beyond, when children were mainly brought up on the assumption of natural vice. They might adore father and mother, and yearn to be better friends with papa: but there was the old Adam, a quickening evil spirit; there were his imps always in the way, confound them! I myself lived, with excellent grandparents, for several years on pretty close terms with Hell and an _all-seeing Eye_; until I grew so utterly weary of both that I have never since had the smallest use for either. Some of you may have read, as a curious book, the agreeable history called The Fairchild Family, in which Mr Fairchild leads his naughty children afield to a gallows by a cross-road and seating them under the swinging corpse of a malefactor, deduces how easily they may come to this if they go on as they have been going. The authors of such monitory or cautionary tales understood but one form of development, the development of Original Sin. You stole a pin, and proceeded by fatal steps, to the penitentiary; you threw a stick at a pheasant, turned poacher, shot a gamekeeper and ended on the gallows. You were always Eric and it was always Little by Little with you…. Stay! memory preserves one gem from a Sunday school dialogue, one sharp-cut intaglio of childhood springing fully armed from the head of Satan:
Q.Where hast thou been this Sabbath morning?
A.I have been coursing of the squirrel.
Q.Art not afraid so to desecrate the Lord’s Day with idle sport?
A.By no means: for I should tell you that I am an Atheist.
I forget what happened to that boy: but doubtless it was, as it should have been, something drastic.

Если так, то, может быть, написать Всевидящее Око, и пусть читатели сами гадают, о чём это?