"It has achieved its reason for existence," he went on, patting the dry grass affectionately.

"It quickened with ambition under the dreary downpour of last winter, fought the violent early spring, flowered, and lured the insects and the bees, scattered its seeds, squared itself with its duty and the world, and--" "Why do you always look at things with such dreadfully practical eyes ?" she interrupted.
"Because I've been studying evolution, I guess.

It's only recently that I got my eyesight, if the truth were told." "But it seems to me you lose sight of beauty by being so practical, that you destroy beauty like the boys who catch butterflies and rub the down off their beautiful wings." He shook his head.
"Beauty has significance, but I never knew its significance before.

I just accepted beauty as something meaningless, as something that was just beautiful without rhyme or reason.

I did not know anything about beauty.
But now I know, or, rather, am just beginning to know.