Life is so constructed, that the event does not, cannot, will not, match the expectation.
I like to see flowers growing, but when they are gathered, they cease to please. I look on them as things rootless and perishable; their likeness to life makes me sad. I never offer flowers to those I love; I never wish to receive them from hands dear to me.
The word book acted as a transient stimulus
You mocking changeling- fairy-born and human-bred!
Prodigious was the amount of life I lived that morning.
He was the first to recognise me, and to love what he saw.