Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle. - Robert Louis Stevenson

Into no other city does the sight of the country enter so far; if you do not meet a butterfly, you shall certainly catch a glimpse of far-away trees upon your walk; and the place is full of theatre tricks in the way of scenery. You peep under an arch, you descend stairs that look as if they would land you in a cellar, you turn to the back-window of a grimy tenement in a lane: — and behold! you are face-to-face with distant and bright prospects. You turn a corner, and there is the sun going down into the Highland hills. You look down an alley, and see ships tacking for the Baltic.

There are double words for everything: the word that swells, the word that belittles.

تحت السماء الواسعة المرصعة بالنجوم
احفر لي قبرا، ودعني أرقد.