Ne cherchez plus mon cœur; des monstres l’ont mangé. - Charles Baudelaire

Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,
Luxe, calme et volupté.

The room was filled with deep, raucous sighs, sudden sobs, silent floods of tears. The horrified musician stopped,and going up to the man whose bliss was expressing itself most noisily, he asked him if he was in great pain and what would help to relieve it. But the sick man, his eyes gleaming ecstatically, looked at him with unspeakable contempt. Fancy wanting to save a man sick with too much life, sick with joy!

A book is a garden, an orchard, a storehouse, a party, a company by the way, a counselor, a multitude of counselors.