Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
—W. B. YEATS, “Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven”
“What is the matter?”
—GUY DE MAUPASSANT, “The Necklace”