"Hver time på dagen kvitter verden seg med tusenvis av tåper. Tenk på, har du tenkt på hvor mye lagret dumhet som forsvinner i løpet av et døgn?"

They stared at this sudden, bloody, swaying apparition, which was dreamily waving a sword in one hand and an axe in the other.
They had axes, too. But the thing glared at them and asked:
'Where's... my... cow?'
They backed away.
'Is that my cow?' The creature demanded, stepping forward unsteadily. It shook its head sadly.
'It goes, "Baaaa!"' it wept. 'It is... a sheep...'
Then it fell to its knees, clenched its teeth and turned its face upwards, like a man tortured beyond his wits, and beseeching the gods of fortune and the tempest, screamed:
'That! Is!! Not!!! My!!!! Cow!!!!!'

Barnets kreativitet, ja i det hele tatt menneskets evne til imaginasjon, forutsetter ‘evnen til å være alene’