" is indeed, sir. I always feel that nothing is so soothing as a walk in a garden at night.’ ‘Ha!’ ‘The cool air. The scent of growing things. That is tobacco plant which you can smell, sir.’ ‘Is it?’ ‘The stars, sir.’ ‘Stars?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘What about them?’ ‘I was merely directing your attention to them, sir. Look how the floor of heaven is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.’ ‘Jeeves—’ ‘There’s not the smallest orb which thou beholdest, sir, but in his motion like an angel sings, still quiring to the young-eyed cherubims.’ ‘Jeeves— "

― P.G. Wodehouse , Joy in the Morning (Jeeves, #8)