Lara walked along the tracks following a path worn by pilgrims and then turned into the fields. Here she stopped and, closing her eyes, took a deep breath of the flower-scented air of the broad expanse around her. It was dearer to her than her kin, better than a lover, wiser than a book. For a moment she rediscovered the purpose of her life. She was here on earth to call each thing by its right name, or, if this were not within her power, to give birth out of love for life to successors who would do it in her place.

-Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago

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