Look at you,’ I found myself answering. ‘If there weren’t one single work of art left in this world … and there are thousands … if there weren’t a single natural beauty … if the world were reduced to one empty cell and one fragile candle, I can’t help but see you studying that candle, absorbed in the flicker of its light, the change of its colors … how long could that sustain you … what possibilities would it create? Am I wrong? Am I such a crazed idealist?’
