She watched the moon, whose radiance stained with primrose the
purple of the surrounding sky. In England the moon had seemed
dead and alien; here she was caught in the shawl of night together
with earth and all the other stars. A sudden sense of unity, of
kinship with the heavenly bodies, passed into the old woman and
out, like water through a tank, leaving a strange freshness behind.
- E.M. Forster, A Passage to India