" I mean that it's like the way you feel about things,' she explained, 'when you hear the rain outside, while you're reading a book. You know what I mean? Oh, I can't put it into words! When you get a sudden feeling of life going on outside ... far away from where you sit ... over wide tracts of country ... as if you were driving in a carriage and all the things you passed were ... life itself ... parapets of bridges, with dead leaves blowing over them ... trees at crossroads ... park-railings ... lamp-lights on ponds ... I don't mean of course,' she went on, 'that philosophy is the same as life ... but—Oh! Can't you see what I mean? "

― John Cowper Powys , Wolf Solent