The land fell away from the height, and then rose again on every side in carpetlike fields and in long curving bands, whose parallel colors passed unblended into the distance.

"I don't suppose," Burnamy said, "that life ever does much better than this, do you?
I feel like knocking on a piece of wood and saying 'Unberufen.' I might knock on your bouquet; that's wood." "It would spoil the flowers," she said, looking down at them in her belt.

She looked up and their eyes met.
"I wonder," he said, presently, "what makes us always have a feeling of dread when we are happy ?" "Do you have that, too ?" she asked.
"Yes.

Perhaps it's because we know that change must come, and it must be for the worse." "That must be it.

I never thought of it before, though." "If we had got so far in science that we could predict psychological weather, and could know twenty-four hours ahead when a warm wave of bliss or a cold wave of misery was coming, and prepare for smiles and tears beforehand--it may come to that." "I hope it won't.