“As if the souls would set out from here to enter life with a sparkling diamond glow, transparently and in shining purity, of the sun-burnished kind of clean soul possessed by a little child. And as if every soul arriving here were muddled and distraught. The soft, tender, gelatinous, crystal, transparent, bird-like, warm little soul alight with the colours of the rainbow, when it returns from life to this hive, and the beekeeper, is distraught, stained and dark. Some are even quite dirty and grey.”

– Béla Hamvas, A babérliget-könyv [The book of the laurel-grove], (Budapest: Médio Kiadó, 2005).