If the heart is like Don Quixote in its belief in fictions as verities, its companion, the soul, surely must be like the hopeful squire, Sancho Panza, as it sallies forth like a true believer on a donkey, not doubting that it will be bestowed the governorship of an insula. And if nothing tangible is gained after such ardors, it too can say this:

"I'll just tell you this, in passing: there's nothing nicer in the world for a man than being the honored squire of a knight errant seeking adventures. Even though it is true most don't turn out well as the man would like, because out of a hundred that you find, ninety-nine tend to turn out wrong and twisted. I know this from experience, because in some I've been tossed in a blanket, and in others I've been beaten, but even so, it's a fine thing to be out looking for things to happen, crossing the mountains, searching forests, climbing peaks, visiting castles, and staying in inns whenever you please and not paying a devil's maravedi for anything."¹

[1] Sancho Panza to his wife Juana, from First Part, Chapter LII of Edith Grossman's translation of "Don Quixote"