" When, in the evening, Françoise was nice to me and asked if she could come and sit in my room, it seemed to me that her face became transparent and that I could see her kindness and honesty revealed. But Jupien, whose lapses into indiscretion were unfamiliar to me at the time, revealed afterward that she had told him that I was not worth the price of the rope it would take to hang me, and that I had tried to do her all the harm I could. Jupien’s words immediately set before me, in unfamiliar colors, a print of my relations with Françoise so different from the one I often took pleasure in contemplating, and in which, beyond any shadow of doubt, Françoise adored me and lost no opportunity of singing my praises, that I realized that it is not only the physical world that differs from the particular way we see it; that all reality is perhaps equally dissimilar from what we believe ourselves to be directly perceiving, which we compose with the help of ideas that do not reveal themselves but are functioning all the same, just as trees, the sun, and the sky would not be the way we see them if they were perceived by creatures with eyes differently constituted from our own, or with organs other than eyes, which fulfilled the same purpose and conveyed equivalents of trees and sky and sun, but not visual ones. "

― Marcel Proust , The Guermantes Way