Few living do.""Then, have I...I mean, am I-""Oh, no, child! You are still very much alive! Though I may say, not as Alive as you might be if you had died.

Something in this meadow and places like it, humble and hidden, offers respite and moments of calm for the wild, adventurous soul that plagues the boys of the world, the wanderer's soul that gnaws and aches inside of them even unto gray manhood. It is the plague of horizons, the plague of the next river bend, the plague that drives men over the vast oceans into strange lands beyond the edges of the maps.

This is the worst thing about poisons and deadly sins - that we enjoy them.