“It’s the spring,” he said. In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. ’ Gerald laughed. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain. "Can't!" repeated his mother. Finally Lucy replied. Les Misérables, A Tale of Two Cities, Henry Esmond, The Last Days of Pompeii, The Marble Faun … Love stories! Until her arrival in Singapore, she had never read a novel. He would always be her friend, too.
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