A pair of bright eyes with a dozen glances suffice to subdue a man; to enslave
him, and inflame; to make him even forget; they dazzle him so, that the past
becomes straightway dim to him; and he so prizes them, that he would give all
his life to possess them. What is the fond love of dearest friends compared to
treasure? Is memory as strong as expectancy, fruition as hunger, gratitude as
desire?
-- Thackeray
