"STRANGE, HE HADN'T NOTICED BEFORE THAT THIS PARK WAS HERE AT ALL.  HOW LOVELY IT WAS!  THE FEELING OF STORM COMMUNICATED ITSELF TO HIM; HE DREW A DEEP BREATH - OUTSIDE THERE WAS LIFE, WITH ALL ITS INFINITE POIGNANCY.  A CHILDREN'S FOUNTAIN HAD SENT UP A RAINBOW, AN OUTSPREAD PEACOCK'S FAN OF WATER, WHOSE COOLNESS COULD ALMOST BE FELT, AND FOR A MOMENT CONNECTING THIS WITH RAIN FALLING SOMEWHERE ALREADY, SOMETHING LIKE A HOPE FLICKERED IN HIM, THOUGH OF NOTHING IN PARTICULAR, PERHAPS JUST OF HOPE ITSELF.  BUT OF COURSE IT WAS THE FOUNTAIN, NOT THE RAIN, THAT MADE THE RAINBOW: HIS HOPE WAS A FALSE HOPE, NOT AN ARTIFICIAL ONE.  BY THE TIME THE RAIN REALLY CAME, BRINGING RELIEF TO THE DROUGHT, THE SUN WOULD BE SET, JUST AS IT MIGHT HAPPEN THAT BY THE TIME MADNESS CAME TO A MAN, THE MIND WOULD NOT KNOW IT WAS A RELIEF."

- MALCOM LOWRY, 'LUNAR CAUSTIC' (1968)