“In the jungle, during one night in each month, the moths did not come to lanterns; through the black reaches of the outer night, so it was said, they flew toward the full moon. He could not recall where he had heard it, or from whom; it had been somewhere on the rivers of Brazil. . . . Yet the idea of the moths in the high darkness, straining upward, filled him with longing, and at these times he would know that he had not found what he was looking for.” —Peter Matthiessen,
