We see places through our humours as though different coloured glasses. We are ourselves a term in the equation, a note of the chord, and make discord or harmony almost at will. There is no fear for the result, if we can but surrender ourselves sufficiently to the country that surrounds and follows us, so that we are ever thinking suitable thoughts or telling ourselves some suitable story as we go. We become thus, in some sense, a centre of beauty; we are provocative of beauty, much as a gentle and sincere character is provocative of sincerity and gentleness in others. And even when there is no harmony to be elicited by the quickest and most obedient of spirits, we may still embellish a place with some attraction of romance.
Robert Louis Stevenson “On the Enjoyment of Unpleasant Places”.