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“There are wide boulevards in Paris lined with trees," he told her, spreading his arms expansively. "The buildings are nearly as big as our dunes." Her eyes widened. "Why on earth would anyone wish to live in such a crowded place?" she asked. "Why would they wish to live in a house built of unmoving stone? Why would they wish a roof over their heads? How would they know the sky? How would they know freedom?" She shook her head. "It is odd that people choose to live in such a backward fashion. It is no better than the harratin who till the soil, forever chained to there are plots of land.” — David Ball
There are wide boulevards in Paris lined with trees," he told her, spreading his arms expansively. "The buildings are nearly as big as our dunes."
Her eyes widened. "Why on earth would anyone wish to live in such a crowded place?" she asked. "Why would they wish to live in a house built of unmoving stone? Why would they wish a roof over their heads? How would they know the sky? How would they know freedom?" She shook her head. "It is odd that people choose to live in such a backward fashion. It is no better than the harratin who till the soil, forever chained to there are plots of land.