From pages 66-67 of Atlas Shrugged:
Her apartment was two rooms on the top floor of a skyscraper. The sheets of glass in the corner window of her living room made it looks like the prow of a ship in motion, and the lights of the city were like phosphorescent sparks on the black waves of steel and stone. When she turned on a lamp, long triangles of shadow cut the bare walls, in a geometrical pattern of light rays broken by a few angular pieces of furniture. She stood in the middle of the room, alone between city and sky.