“To see a beautiful elf with golden wings come fluttering, fluttering gently down from the sky, — you open your arms to catch her — so . . . and just as you think you have her, she leans only a little bit on one side and falls, not into your heart — no! — into the heart of someone else! That is grief, because, when she has gone, no more elves come down from the sky — for you, at any rate, good things may come for others, — but for you the heavens are empty!”