"I don't believe it. I believe that the most of them simply walk up the mountain and down again. But if they did, that avoids the question also. The poetry and mystery of the mountains are lost to those who make themselves familiar with their details, not the less because such familiarity may have useful results. In this world things are beautiful only because they are not quite seen, or not perfectly understood. Poetry is precious chiefly because it suggests more than it declares. Look in there, through that valley, where you just see the distant little peak at the end. Are you not dreaming of the unknown beautiful world that exists up there;--beautiful, as heaven is beautiful, because you know nothing of the reality? If you make your way up there and back to-morrow, and find out all about it, do you mean to say that it will be as beautiful to you when you come back?"
"Yes;--I think it would," said Alice.

"I don't believe it. I believe that the most of them simply walk up the mountain and down again. But that is beside the point. The poetry and mystery of the mountains are lost to those who make themselves familiar with their details. In this world things are beautiful only because they are not quite seen, or not perfectly understood. Poetry is precious chiefly because it suggests more than it declares. Look through that valley, where you just see the distant little peak at the end. Are you not dreaming of the unknown beautiful world that exists up there; beautiful because you know nothing of the reality? If you travel up there and back tomorrow, and find out all about it, will it be as beautiful to you when you come back?"
"Yes; I think it would," said Alice.
