It seemed to her that certain portions of the earth must produce happiness – as though it were a plant native only to those soils and doomed to languish elsewhere.
~ Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary
The heart is a nomad. Emma’s curse was to be forever bewitched by the mirage – to imagine she might finally attain it. But such happiness, once gained, is only sifted through the fingers like sand. It appears to be a universal law of human nature that, in Montaigne’s words, “we are never in our true abiding-place; we are always somewhere else.”