"... it is he who, in spite of thorns,
Envy and derision,
Walks, bent under your remains,
Gathering tradition.

From fertile tradition
Comes all that covers the world,
Everything that heaven can bless.

Every idea, human or divine,
Which is rooted in the past,
Has its foliage in the future."

(Victor Hugo, "Fonction du poete", 287-296)