"...That unnameable something, desire for which pierces us like a rapier at the smell of bonfire, the sound of wild ducks flying overhead, the title of The Well at the World's End, the opening lines of 'Kubla Khan', the morning cobwebs in late summer, or the noise of falling waves" or "The inconsolable longing" in the human heart for "we know not what". (Sehnsucht. by C. S. Lewis.)