My eyes hurt after coming upon this passage in Dicken's David Copperfield:

"Ah, how I loved her! What happiness (I thought) if we were married, and were going away anywhere to live among the trees and in the fields, never growing older, never growing wiser, children ever, rambling hand in hand through the sunshine and among the flowery meadows, laying down our heads on moss at night, in a sweet sleep of purity and peace, and buried by the birds when we were dead! Some such picture, with no real world in it, bright with the light of our innocence, and vague as the stars afar off, was in my mind all the way."

Why does this picture have to be in a world that is not real? Why is this yearning in everyone when our world is nowhere near the picture described in this passage? We have never experienced anything like this and yet we long for it to exist.