"The
books or music in which we thought the beauty was located will
betray us if we trust in them; it was not in them, it only came
through them, and what came through them was longing. These
things--the beauty, the memory of our own past--are good images of
what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing
itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their
worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the
scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not
heard, news from a country we have never yet visited..." -C.S.
Lewis