The world is unexpected, wide and awe-inspiring, he thinks--not unlike a cabinet of wonders. And even if it's cold out here, even if it's bleak and hopeless, even if it hurts... there is still so much beauty to cherish, to treasure--to look at with the eyes of a child. He would like to describe it, to write it all down--but even if the cold gets to him, even if words fail him, it will be all right: he will cradle it in his heart, like a keepsake, like a memory, and, perhaps, a bit like a dream.