إذ أن ذروة السرور في لذة الدفء هي أن لا يفصل بينك أنت وما تهوّم فيه من جمام وبين برد الهواء في الخارج شيء سوى البطانية. عندئذ تستلقي كأنك قبس دافيء في… - Herman Melville

I try all things, I achieve what I can.

There are some strange summer mornings in the country, when he who is but a sojourner from the city shall early walk forth into the fields, and be wonder-smitten with the trance-like aspect of the green and golden world. Not a flower stirs; the trees forget to wave; the grass itself seems to have ceased to grow; and all Nature, as if suddenly become conscious of her own profound mystery, and feeling no refuge from it but silence, sinks into this wonderful and indescribable repose.

It is not down on any map; true places never are.