"I should have the ocean."
"You would then go to the seaside?"
"I think so."
"It is sad."
"It is grand."
There was another pause. He broke it.
"You do not know what exile is. I do know it. It is terrible. Assuredly, I would not begin it again. Death is a bourne whence no one comes back, exile is a place whither no one returns."
"If necessary," I said to him, "I will go, and I will return to it."
"Better die. To quit life is nothing, but to quit one's country—"
"Alas!" said I, "that is every thing."